


🌸 Hananase 🌸

by takoyaki (tamagoyaki)



Series: I7 AU Collection [1]
Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, alternative universe, flower shop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15336315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagoyaki/pseuds/takoyaki
Summary: Izumi Iori walked into the flower shop, not sure what he was expecting.“……What a cute store.”“It makes me happy that you’d say that!” Commented a smooth, bright voice.In another universe, Nanase Riku never auditioned for Idolish7.





	1. Sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> Chinese translation here:[1,](http://fang4552.lofter.com/post/1ed99c53_12a92cd32)[ 2,](http://fang4552.lofter.com/post/1ed99c53_12ad76648)[ 3](http://fang4552.lofter.com/post/1ed99c53_12b78ede5) By the linguistically talented [Jane Fang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneFang/pseuds/JaneFang). It’s so good I could cry for days.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own none of the pics used in this fic. All credits to their original artists and photographers please.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Adoration._

The first time Izumi Iori meets him, it was right at the beginning of summer.

Sweat sticking to the surface of his clammy skin, Iori had been walking down the streets and through the shimmering heat. He remembers, mildly, entertaining the thought of abandoning the mask and the hat in favour of a Yotsuba-san-mimicry (to which Osaka-san would fuss and worry). For all that Idolish6 have just been about to debut, they haven’t actually reached that point after all. It seemed pointless to don a mask… even if Nii-san had pushed it on him, worried about the seasonal flu that’s been going around.

 _Pii._ His phone buzzed.

[Osaka Sougo: Tamaki-kun and I have gotten the party goods!]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: Sou-chan was super lame. He totally didn’t know any party games.]

[Osaka Sougo: That’s not true! I do know of Russian roulette!]

[Nikaido Yamato: …Sorry to disappoint, Sou, but Russian roulette’s hardly a game us commoners would normally play at a birthday party.]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: See?]

[Osaka Sougo: Is that so… I might have made a mistake purchasing those darts then.]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: _That’s_ what you were intending to use those darts for?! To put into the guns to shoot at ourselves?!]

[Izumi Mitsuki: Lol Keep it moderate, you guys!]

And then there were these guys too, creating the usual clamour in the backdrop of their RabbitChat group. Iori leaned back, sighing. Honestly, with the number of colourful personalities in this sub-group, it’s a miracle Rokuya-san has yet to discover the secret surprise party they were planning for his birthday.

 _Pii._ Another message.

[Izumi Mitsuki: Cake and food ingredients, gotten!]

[Izumi Mitsuki: Iori, how’s things on your side?]

 _I’m on my way right now._ He had been about to type. Even if the last flower shop he went to was closed, there has to be one that’s opened around here.

But it’s then that he looked up and he saw it – a shop brimming with flowers, tucked into the storey-houses right across the street.

 _Sent._ His thumb dropped onto the button without thinking.

He allowed his arm to fall, fingers loosely clinging onto the surface of his smartphone. Because there’s something about the shop before him that captures his eyes and loses his attention on other things.

Flowers. Soft pastel flowers fluttered gently from their perch atop their maple stands, beckoning customers to view them. Right beneath the extended petals, small pots of seven-coloured flowers poke out shyly, like kittens hiding behind their mothers’ legs, adorned with cute round pebbles stuck on lovingly. It made Iori smile, reminded of Idolish6. (And aren’t they all brightly-coloured? Even if they are a pain at times. Rokuya-san is still begging for them to recruit an “ _Aka_ ” even now because – _“_ What _rangers_ are we if we don’t have a _Red_?!”)

The inside of the shop is as equally charming.

The first step taken in welcomes him with the twinkling-jingling of a bell. The soft yellow of the walls paints the image of home, warm and not unlike the faded caramel of his parents’ bakery. A table stands at the heart of the store, adorned with various decorators for pots or bouquets, kitten-shaped clay figurines, squirrel-shaped pots, and more. Round wooden pots of flowers hang above, adding to the overall cuteness of the store. And all around, there are potted plants of various sizes – stacked onto a shelf full of steps, tucked into a cooling refrigerator for freshness, or simply gathered with their own species and placed side-by-side.

“……What a cute store.”

“It makes me happy that you’d say that!” Commented a smooth, bright voice.

“Wha-!” Iori jumped, a hand flying to his chest to make sure his heart hadn’t leaped out. “Please don’t appear behind me so suddenly!” He scolded on instinct, turning around.

Carnelian eyes blink. And suddenly, Iori had his breath stolen again, this time by the cuteness of this person.

Tuffs of crimson fell over his eyes when he tilted his head. The florist blinked, lips parting for a moment in surprise at his reaction. Then thereafter, still dressed in his dark apron and light brown, blue-striped sweater and dull green cargo pants, the florist lifted his hand to his face – they’re tucked in huge dark gardening gloves – and chuckled adorably. Iori felt his face colour.

“Sorry, sorry… Did I scare you? Are you here to look for something?”

It took a moment for Iori to get over it.

“A… friend of mine is celebrating his birthday today.” His composure recovered more the more he spoke. “It’s going to be a surprise party, with everyone at the dorm celebrating him. I’m in-charge of getting flowers.”

“Flowers? For a guy?” Startled carnelian eyes blink.

“Should you really be questioning your customer?” Iori couldn’t help reproaching him.

The resultant flinch and startled frown is decidedly cute, even if it filled him with guilt. Perhaps Nii-san is right about the way he treats cute people. He shouldn’t be overly harsh on those he’s meeting for the first time.

“…Sorry, that came out wrong.” Iori covered his lips.

The florist cocked his head and slowly slipped out of his bewildered look.

Iori sighed.

“My friend is one of those unnecessarily gaudy foreigners. With his natural good looks, he has an unhealthy tendency to pick up women with cliché phrases. But since we often try to deny him that, we thought flowers would be a good way to acknowledge his beauty on this special occasion.”

Not to mention, to thank Rokuya-san for reviving their team on that night. Iori still has nightmares about messing up under the thousands of stares even now.

He coughed.

“In any case, this friend has done lots for us. I would like to be able to properly show our appreciation for him tonight.”

The florist smiled.

“I see… He sure sounds like a good friend!” The florist wringed his hands, bending over some different flowers. “So! What kind of person is he like? An energetic personality? A cool person? Or is it a sexy flirty onii-san?” A warm laugh.

It’s then that the florist blinked and panic overtook his expression.

“A…hh! Sorry! I forgot I shouldn’t get too personal with my customers! I-It’s just I’d like to know what your friend is like, so I could have some ideas of what to go with the bouquet – Ah, but then of course, I haven’t even asked you what you would like, have I? My bad… Otou-san and Okaa-san always say I’m too forgetful…” The florist slumped, a face full of comical defeat.

Really. What a cute person. Iori resolved himself to go lighter on this florist.

“He’s a bright person.” Iori answered. The florist lifted his head to peer at his gentle smile with a flushed face. “Kind beneath his flamboyant attitude, he’s our biggest supporter both on the job and off it. The best friend anyone could possibly have.” It would be embarrassing if Rokuya-san heard this. He switched topics. “It would be nice if you could include some sakura, if you have any. Rokuya-san adores anything remotely Japan.”

The florist’s face was still flushed a pink hue. He must be one of those easily embarrassed types.

“Ah… Sakura’s out of season right now, so I’m afraid we don’t have any…” The florist averted his gaze apologetically.

“I see.”

“B-but!” The florist leapt to his feet and gingerly plucked something off the table of ornaments. “We do have some sakura ornaments left! Will you be fine with them?” The florist’s eyes are wide, innocent with an eager-to-please attitude that’s reminiscent of small puppies and Rokuya-san.

Iori couldn’t resist the smile that came to his lips.

“I’ll leave you to arrange the bouquet then.”

“I’ll do my best!” Replied the florist with a determined look on his face.

Iori smiled as he watched the florist rummage through the bundles, lips pursued in thought and hunched endearingly over each flower. It’s an adorable sight, so much so that he couldn’t resist and slipped out his phone mid-buzz through another group message to snap a picture. The florist remained blissfully oblivious, leaning pale face on a gloved hand and picking out a sunflower. That choice itself is better than Iori could have imagined, him with his feet always rooted on the ground somewhat leaves his imagination in shatters.

“Here! It’s done!” The florist passed the bouquet over with a smile, full of bright yellows and soft pinks to compliment the adorable plastic sakura. Some blue hyacinth poked out, offering a splotch of colour to match Rokuya-san in a way that’s just them.

“Thank you very much.” The words slipped out, full of sincerity.

“Heheh! Don’t mention it! It makes me happy when my flowers make my customers happy!” The florist beamed, shoulders lifting with pride.

Iori momentarily had a vision of the other as an idol. But that’s impossible. It must just be the other’s working attitude that’s so similar to theirs.

“I hope your friend likes it!” Added the florist.

“I’m sure he will.” Iori assured. “By the way, if you don’t mind, could I have your name card to recommend you to my friends…?”

“Ah… Sure. Sure! Here you go, Customer-san. I hope to see you again soon!”

“I’ll see again, Nanase-san.”

With a blue-wrapped bouquet in hand, Izumi Iori walked out of the shop, shuddering at the warmth that readily engulfs him where the soothing coolness of the air conditioner fades. The street was still clear of people. The air still shimmered with heat waves that challenged him to make it home safely. Iori bravely adjusted his grip on the bouquet and turned back for a moment, peering at the rainbow-coloured baby pots and then at Nanase-san.

The amicable florist looked up from the counter then and met his gaze, a warm smile blooming and gloved hand waving.

Iori offered a nod as he turned his face away. He refuses to admit there was heat on his face. …And if there was, it must be due to the summer heat.


	2. Hyacinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sincerity._

The next time they meet, it would be due to Ogami-san’s birthday.

“Come to think of it, you were the one who got that bouquet for Nagi-kun’s birthday, weren’t you, Iori-kun?”

The President was the one who started the topic, following a humming sigh of ‘Now that I think of it, isn’t Banri’s birthday coming up…?’ that prompted both him and the Manager to lurch into similarly troubled sighs. When asked what the trouble was, they answered how difficult it was to choose gifts for Ogami-san due to his minimalist attitude.

“Banri-kun did request for a bouquet like that for his next birthday…” The President stroked Kinako’s back absently.

“That bouquet was also magnificent!” The Manager chirped in. “Even though the scale of its grandness couldn’t compare to those of Idolish6’s debut, there was something warm about it that made it personal and delightful.” A smile slipped onto her lips the more she talked about it. Iori couldn’t help his growing pride, even if it wasn’t about him. “I think such a bouquet is exactly what we want for the always hardworking Banri-san!”

Nanase-san would be happy to hear that.

“I have the contact details of the florist who designed that.” Iori spoke up. “If you like, I could call him right now—”

“Please do!” Echoed the father-daughter duo, enthusiastic eyes boring into him.

They really are alike… Iori sighed and picked up his phone.

_Di-ri-di-ri-di-ri-click._

_“Hello? This is Hananase!”_

A warm voice speaking. He sounds as cheerful as ever.

“Good afternoon. Is this Nanase-san speaking?” He kept his tone level, mindful of the listening ears and still enthusiastic eyes boring into his frame. Urgh. “I am Izumi Iori. I’m not sure if you remember, but I purchased a sunflower bouquet from you approximately two months ago. The…” He covered his mouth and whispered. “…guy who was unintentionally rude to you.”

_“AH?!”_

Wha-?!

 _“Izumi Iori?!_ That _Izumi Iori?! It really was you from two months ago? You’re not lying?!”_

Ah. Nanase-san appears to recognize him from I6.

“I have no reason to lie. I really must apologize for my rudeness back then. Everyone here loved the bouquet you made, Rokuya-san included, so much so that one of our staff actually wants—”

 _“I made a bouquet for_ Rokuya Nagi-kun _?!”_

“Are you done.” Iori questioned, voice flat.

 _“Sorry, sorry! I just-”_ A breathless wheeze. _“-got just a bit excited, is all.”_ Another breathy inhale.

“…Are you alright?” Iori knitted his brows in worry.

 _“I’m fine!”_ A raspy chuckle attempting to be the very image of cheerfulness. Iori is not convinced. _“More importantly, you have a job for me, you said?”_

“Ah, no. The job request is not from me, but the President of our production company. I’m putting you through in a moment, alright?” Iori listened to the other’s breathing through the speaker till it got even. The Manager was peering at him with wide eyes filled with something unreadable when he passed his phone to her, looking for all the world like she wanted to say something.

“Hello, Nanase-san! I’m Takanashi Tsumugi, the manager of Idolish6. Today, I’m calling to make a request for—”

…

The bell jingled delightfully in its place as he entered.

Iori took a huge breath and folded up his umbrella, eyes scanning the yellow lights and familiar, homey atmosphere.

“Good evening, Iori-kun!” The familiar florist beamed from across the counter. “I’ve finished preparing Ogami-san’s bouquet just a while ago! It must be tough getting here in the rain!”

“Well,” Iori shoved his umbrella into its plastic cover. Navy eyes flicker to the smiling redhead. He didn’t want to make this person push himself by delivering the bouquet to the agency. “It wasn’t much trouble.” He assured. “More importantly, the bouquet…?”

“Ah, wait a moment.” The florist turned to the fridge behind him. “If there’s anything about this bouquet that displeases you right now, feel free to tell me, please. I was a bit hesitant on the colours of the ribbons – I wonder why Takanashi President specified these colours? They’re like the duo colours of Re:vale-san, right?”

A white and blue and purple bouquet of speckles of mayflowers, an abundance of hyacinths – of the blue and purple variety, and tiny delicate forget-me-nots was settled into the bouquet stand on the counter. Wrapped in thin rainy white and soft grey paper, the flowers were gathered up at the base by two grey ribbons – one with hot pink lacing the edges and the other a bright green. What had initially sounded like a terrible combination turned out to actually accentuate the flowers’ beauty. As expected, Nanase-san really is a miracle worker.

“I wondered about that too…” The comment does not contain the breathlessness he felt. Iori’s thankful for it. “Thank you, Nanase-san. Your bouquets are beautiful as usual.”

“Heheh. Hearing that makes me embarrassed.” Nanase-san beamed.

“I’m just stating the facts.” Iori smiled, a soft exhale on his lips.

For some reason, he felt inclined to make conversation as Nanase-san prepared the bouquet for the journey.

“…Are you feeling better?” Startled carnelians turned to him. “Normal people don’t usually burst out in coughs due to overexcitement, Nanase-san.” He said crossly.

“I’m fine, I said!” Nanase-san’s voice raised in exasperation. “That time, I was just recovering from another attack, so—”

He stopped himself short. Eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. Iori offered a dry look.

“…Let me guess. Is it asthma?” It’s the most common condition Iori knew of associated to the word ‘attacks’. “I’m surprised you’re working in a flower shop given your condition. Do look after your health better.” He reproached.

“Iori-kun…You’re just like a Mommy,” Nanase-san chuckled. “As expected of an idol to be so sharp!”

“What does that have to do with being an idol?” Iori tapped the side of his elbow. He has yet to receive a proper answer.

Dipping his head, Nanase-san pouted but answered.

“…That’s right. As you said, I have asthma. It’s normally not that serious, but it’s been with me ever since I was born, you see?” Nanase-san offered a small smile that’s slightly troubled. “My older twin brother left the house to go somewhere when we were younger so he could pay for my medical fees… But one day, I hope that when I find him, I can show him this shop and tell him how much better I’m doing now. Like ‘See?! This is how much healthier I am now! I’m no longer defeated by the thing that used to make me sick!’…or something like that. That’s been my dream ever since Hananase was opened.”

His cheeks light up slightly, looking abashed.

“That’s a good dream.” Iori replied. What else could he, with way carnelian eyes soften at the topic? “So, do you have any idea where your older brother might be? What occupation has he gone into? Were there any legal documentation signed by your parents when he had to leave-?”

“Woah, woah, woah! T-There’s too many questions, Iori-kun!” Nanase-san backed up.

“Please answer the questions. And also, please drop the ‘-kun’.”

“Why am I being interviewed right now…?” Nanase-san dropped his defensive hands, looking exasperated. “I don’t know about any documents. Erm…Iori.”

Uncertain carnelians flicker to him for confirmation. Iori leaned back, relaxing.

“But… I have a good idea of where he is. I see his face every day around the city. It’d be impossible not to; he’s that famous.”

Gloved fingers curl into the edge of the counter. The florist looked conflicted.

“He… seems to be doing well right now, from what I can see. But… I don’t know how to approach Te – Nii-chan without troubling him. What if he doesn’t want a childish, sickly brother like me again? Thinking back, before I even know the difficulty of raising a life, I was always so spoiled and demanding towards him. What if he doesn’t want me again…?”

Teeth tease at the bottom of his lips. Nanase-san has a hand gripping his apron, eyes lidded at the imaginary world he’s creating with his own words.

Eyes softening in concern for the asthmatic florist, Iori coughed into a hand and broke the trance they’re both captured in.

“A-Ah!” Nanase-san fumbled. “I-I shouldn’t be spilling my life troubles to a customer-!”

“It’ll be fine, Nanase-san, both your Nii-san and the relationship between you two.” Iori may not know them personally, but what he’s heard is enough proof. “Your Nii-san cared enough to leave home for your sake at a young age. There’s no way he wouldn’t want you now, would he?”

“Iori-kun…”

Iori sighed.

“Drop the ‘-kun’ honorific already.” He smacked the top of the other’s head with a hand chop. “Thank you for the flowers. I’ll gratefully take them, alright?”

“…Iori, you’re unexpectedly kind!” Nanase-san giggled.

“What’s with that ‘unexpected’? I’ll take offense.” Iori threatened in a deadpan.

“Oh _no_! A lecture from _Mommy_ on manners is the last thing I want!” Nanase-san laughed through his nose, ducking to avoid the next hand chop.

Iori rolled his eyes fondly. The florist seemed to be in good spirits again. That’s a relief. Giggles settling, they meet eyes for one more time, both with smiles reflected on their faces.

“I hope Ogami-san likes my flowers.”

Nanase-san uttered those words, an almost absent-minded comment slipping his lips in a sigh.

“I’m sure he will.”

Iori wasn’t sure how his reply sounded to the other, but they meet eyes again when he was out of the store, turning back to catch another glimpse of the other.

Nanase-san beamed and waved, mouthing an exaggerated “good night”. Iori found himself wishing he had reminded the other to keep himself warm in the chilling cold of the rain – his condition must require that at least.

But that would seem out of place, so he returned a curt nod and continued his way.

(He was right about the flowers. Ogami-san was absolutely thrilled with them.)


	3. Celandine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Forthcoming Joys._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>       _Hananase Notes! :
>     ~ < 20th Jun: Music Festa
>     - 20th Jun: Rokuya Nagi's birthday [C1]
>     - 20th Aug: Idolish7's Debut
>     - 8th Sep: Ogami Banri's birthday [C2]
>     - 31st Dec: Japan Idol Music Awards
>     - 3rd Jan: Black or White Faceoffs_
>     

It begins with a stray thought, of – _I wonder how Nanase-san is doing._

Before Iori knows it, his mind is flooded with thoughts of Nanase-san, the lines flickering on the edges of his mind with every turn he makes. Rain, for instance, brings back the memory of a pained cough and a bright smile trying to hide his discomfort. Rabbits and kittens and puppies no longer bring just an overwhelming urge to hug them, but a twitch to his fingers too, urging him to gather up the fur, the thought of a sick Nanase-san coming to mind.

Iori takes only a week of attempts at ignoring his thoughts before he finds himself on his way back to the store. He has never been good at denying the things he likes. (Nii-san and cute things alike.)

Upon arrival, he’s greeted by a refreshingly bright smile.

“Iori-ku… Iori!” Nanase-san fixes under his look, an adorable huff at his own slip-up. “Good morning! Here for more flowers?”

“What else would I be here for?” He snaps. And relaxes. Nanase-san doesn’t flinch, surprisingly. “…Is what I would be saying normally. But today, I’m just here to look around the store.”

“Window shopping?” Nanase-san lifts his brow and laughs. “If so, you’re in luck, Iori Sir! Our new products have come out today. Iori, you like cute things, don’t you?” Nanase-san’s carnelian eyes are sparkling. The florist leans against the central table, lips pulled up into an enthused smile. “Little and adorable things like kittens and squirrels that doesn’t fit your image at all? You _love_ those, don’t you?”

 _You’re cute too._ Iori wants to say but doesn’t. Instead, he settles for a deadpan at the florist’s teasing.

“Your tongue’s getting awfully loose around me, Nanase-san.”

“It’s hard not.” Nanase-san chuckles. “I see you every day on television.”

“Nanase-san, you’re a fan?” Iori steps closer. He picks up an endearing cat-shaped ceramic pot that fit exactly into his palm. …Somehow, he thinks he might want to buy this. Lifting his gaze off the work, Iori sees the slightly flustered features of Nanase-san. He’s surprised, and he can’t say if it’s in a bad way.

“I…I’m something like that…?” Nanase-san’s voice is high with nervousness, as if he’s just realized he’s around his admired idol.

Frustratingly enough, some part of Iori is stuck on the fact that Nanase-san is one of their fans – _his_ fan, to be more precise. The rest of Iori remains operated by the mechanical, idol part of him that has by now become an instinct on which he falls back to – Professional, neutral, cool.

“Thank you for always supporting us. We couldn’t have gotten to where we are without you.”

Even the bow is practiced. Immediately after he does it, Iori finds himself regretting the action. Nanase-san is obviously more than just a fan; he should be providing a more personal, more sincere appreciation than this.

“D…Don’t be like that, Iori. It’s not you.” Nanase-san scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. Iori leaps at the chance to salvage their relationship.

“Then, Nanase-san, would you rather I tease you mercilessly so as to rub in the difference between reality and fantasy?” He asks point-blank.

“Ah… There’s the cynical Iori I know.” Nanase-san says it with relief, face blank.

That visit, Iori gets himself a cat-shaped pot with the intention of filling it with the ‘wish stars’ Nii-san made him back on his tenth birthday – paper stars made out of strips with wishes written on them. Nanase-san teases mercilessly but ceases when he demands it, reducing his reaction to just a cheeky smile that somehow speaks more than he does. Iori leaves the store, face red, but pocketing the cat pot gingerly.

(The thoughts subside but still refuse to leave even then.)

…

“Ah, it’s Iori again!”

The next visit sees him being greeted by the same smile, bright and sunny in a manner that’s inexplicably different from Nii-san’s.

Iori shoves a hand in his pocket and snarks. He’s gradually learning to relax around the small-animal-like florist with his playful taunts.

“What ‘Ah, it’s me’? Your customers are going to be repelled by your greeting.” He warns, strutting past the counter.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I use that greeting on everyone who walks through these doors.” Nanase-san spills his excuses, huffing lightly in indignity. “Iori’s the only one I use such a greeting on. You’re fun to tease, always so obsessive about manners and things!” A teasing grin slowly comes to that face. “…Besides, how do you know I’m not using that greeting on you on purpose to trigger you?”

“Nanase-san is absolutely hopeless when it comes to etiquette, so.” Iori picks up another ceramic pot. Nanase-san leaves the counter to sulk.

“What was that? I’ll have you know I was perfectly polite even back when I was a child!”

“Really? I find that hard to believe.” Iori retorts in a deadpan.

“Iori, you’re so frustrating!” Nanase-san huffs. “Always so mean to m—” He’s interrupted by a cough. And then another. All tumbling into one another to form a huge coughing fit. It calms down before Iori could put down his hesitation to reach out for the other. However, Nanase-san is left with trembling shoulders and a soft, wheezing voice.

“…Na… Nanase-san… are you alright……?” Iori asks, voice weak. Because while he knows he’s not alright, there’s nothing he can do.

“…Fi… _fine_.” Nanase-san wheezes with some effort. Iori instantly berates himself for giving the other pressure to look ‘fine’.

“…Alright. That’s enough.” Iori straightens up. The words are directed both at a confused Nanase-san and himself. He’s got to grab a hold of himself. How else can he help the other? “Nanase-san, do you know what’s the cause? A particular flower? Did an animal come by here? Did you have an attack before this? Is that why you’re feeling sick now? Also – Do you need to go grab your inhaler-?” The words splash out easily, encouraged by the details he remembers from researching asthma online.

Before him, Nanase-san’s pained eyes grow larger at his queries.

“I-I’m fine.” Nanase-san smiles shakily. Iori sighs. He’s always so stubborn… “It’s just a bit cold due to the upcoming winter—”

He doesn’t hesitate to pull off his woollen scarf, wrapping it around the other’s neck. Wide carnelian eyes peer at him as he does so, frozen in his grasp. It doesn’t seem to matter then, that he’s making more contact than what’s appropriate. Nanase-san’s own enemy always seems to be himself, with his obstinate attitude going against a body too weak to abide by his wishes.

“Geez.” Iori tucks in the intentionally frayed ends of the scarf. “Do take better care of yourself, Nanase-san. If you get a cold, what would you do?”

Nanase-san’s face is utterly flushed. It makes Iori falter too, face heating up. He averts his gaze awkwardly, drawing his hands back as if they’re on fire.

“…Do you have any recommendations today?” He asks to distract them both from this. Whatever ‘this’ is. “I’ve been needing another pot again recently.”

Nanase-san, still out of it, cradles a gloved hand against his apron loosely.

“T-Thanks, Iori. Let’s see. We have a dragon-themed vase, a panda pot – Or rather… Can you stop using our pots as decorators?!” Nanase-san pursues his lips crossly, legs firmly set within comfort zone. “I filled them full of love during the making process so they could provide good homes for plants! And yet you’re filling them with wishes, of all things!”

Iori’s lips quirk up momentarily, pleased the other is back to his usual self. It makes things less awkward… for whatever reason it was awkward to begin with.

“A-Are you listening? Ioriiiiii?”

…

Iori takes time to return to Hananase every fortnightly, at times for window shopping, other times for more cute pots that are gradually taking up the space on his study desk. Every visit sees a heartening conversation from the amicable florist. Every visit brings some respite from his piling schedule – which, admittedly, has mostly to do with himself wanting to bear more as Idolish6’s centre (he’s not part of MEZZO or Pythagoras’ Trio. He’s got to pull his weight). Every visit increases the swell of affection he feels for the hopeless florist.

Hananase soon becomes a place of peace and calm in the storm of controversies and secrecy surrounding Idolish6.

And Nanase-san grows to become a friend.

…

“To be honest, there was a time when becoming an idol was all I wanted – to chase after my older twin brother.” Nanase-san reveals one visit, leaning back against the ornament table.

“Is that so?!” Iori swivels around.

“…Why are you so surprised?” Nanase-san deadpans, taking offense.

“No… It’s just the image of Nanase-san as an idol is intriguing.” A mortifying yet exciting concept, more like. He remembers thinking numerous times of the impossibility of Nanase-san’s charm. Most of Hananse’s customers are regulars, drawn in by the air of home and thereafter, returning due to the inexplicable one thing that make them at ease – Nanase-san’s meaningless but warm small talks. For that Nanase-san’s charm to transcend the small boundaries of Hananase and be put to use in a large crowd, that’s… frightening, yet the thought is enough to get his blood racing. (Nanase-san could probably rival the legendary Zero.) But………

“…But if you do, I would worry terribly about your health.” Iori thinks aloud. As it is, even a small drop in temperature is enough to garner coughs. He doesn’t want to think about the repercussions of the stress of an idol’s workload on Nanase-san.

“Heheh! Iori, how sweet! You’re worried for me?”

“I’m surprised you still have the audacity to chuckle.”

“That’s because it was just a passing thought!” Nanase-san smiles, picking up a small potted plant. “At that time, while it’s true that Nii-chan was the one thing that was on my mind, I couldn’t help but worry about how my plants would strive without me around. Most idols have to live in dorms, right? I couldn’t possibly take all of them along.”

That’s… not wrong. Iori has seen first-hand how much Nanase-san adores his plants. Even so…

“Not to mention, it’ll probably be selfish to ruin the health Nii-chan sacrificed himself to give me.” Nanase-san’s smile is just a little pained around the words he murmurs softly.

…Even so… He must want to chase after his older brother so much that it hurts.

“Why did Nanase-san venture into this line of business?” Iori asks to distract.

“Hm? Oh, that! It’s a bit of a foolish story – not to mention stupid.” Nanase-san laughs sheepishly. “When I was much younger – back when Nii-chan was still with us – our parents bought us those cute baby cacti that they sell off the street. The ones that come at a price of 200 yen? For some reason, mine was quick to die off within a record three days. I thought just because it’s a cactus, that I didn’t need to water it. An awfully stupid and cruel mistake, now that I think back to it.”

Nanase-san sighs, folding his arms across his chest lamentably. Iori knows just how much the matter concerns him even if he pretends otherwise. Nanase-san is kind to all his plants that way.

“But Onii-chan’s didn’t die – not even after he left! I thought of it as the last piece of him that he’s leaving to me to take care of, and I tried my hardest to research on how to keep it alive. Plant watering, fertilizing, providing sunlight and all… The me of back then was really hopelessly bad at taking care of plants, much less other people. Just remembering it is embarrassing!”

Nanase-san’s face morphs in pain at the memories assaulting him.

“…I can somewhat imagine it.” A cute younger Nanase-san clumsily taking care of the cactus in his own way. “It’s impressive – that you managed to neglect all the basic necessities plants need before that. I pity the first cactus you received.”

“You – You really lack delicacy, don’t you?” Nanase-san twitches, his button pushed.

“That’s my charm point, according to fans.” Iori smiles.

“Anyways,” Nanase-san sighs, rolling his eyes. “It’s thanks to Onii-chan’s remaining cactus that I got into planting.” A smile. “Thanks to that, I finally understand how much effort it takes to take care of something you love, be it a plant or a human. In a sense, I got closer to Onii-chan by understanding him better through plants. I won’t say I regretted my dream of becoming an idol… but even if I’m not an idol, I’m still able to make people happy with the work I do!”

…And that. It’s that mindset that almost makes Iori disappointed Nanase-san isn’t an idol. How brightly would the other shine on the stage, if he’s there? With that said, it’d be a lie to say there isn’t a bubble of appreciation for this place he’s in. There’s a prickle of selfishness that draws guilt, because it’s thanks to Nanase-san’s fragile body that Hananase exists, and the thought of being glad for it is just wrong on so many levels. Still…

“…I’m glad you managed to find a meaningful place for yourself.” Iori says with a gentle smile. “I can’t imagine this shopping district without Hananase around.”

Nanase-san turns red.

“G-Geez, Iori! Flatteries won’t get you any discounts, you know!”

“I know. So hurry up and give me the recommendation of the day, store clerk-san.”

…

And then… a single instance that stands out against the others:

…

“A rabbit.” Deadpans the florist, peering at the pot incredulously. “For Tamaki-kun. Really?”

“Yotsuba-san is quicker to jump to conclusions than you’d think.” Iori explains, putting down the rest of his selection – including a different version of the cat pot he has from before. “While the agency has made admirable effort to build his image as the 5th most desirable man, Yotsuba-san is still a genuine seventeen year old student at heart. He’s unexpectedly sensitive and weak to loneliness.”

“You mean unlike you, huh. Ouch-!” Nanase-san pouts at the chop he receives over the head.

“Osaka-san’s is a panda, its two opposing colours reminiscent of a trait I’d rather not reveal. Nikaido-san’s a black cat for all his teasing. Rokuya-san’s is the parrot for obvious reasons. And Nii-san’s the shiba-inu.”

“Geez… I wonder how you truly see the rest of Idolish6. To compare your own Nii-san to a shiba inu…” Nanase-san sighs but reaches out to remove the tags from the pots.

“Such a thing… it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Iori folds his arms. “Idolish6 is an animal zoo.”

“Z…Zoo…” Nanase-san looks reasonably bewildered.

“You’d understand if you meet them personally.”

Or more precisely, get a chance at the centre position and be forced to lead them too. Iori’s fairly certain Nikaido-san would more than agree with his words. They both have their own share of attempts trying to tame the rowdy group of children.

“Pfthaha!” Nanase-san laughs into his hand. The small bit of breathlessness Iori’s sensitive ears picks up makes him concerned, but he smiles alongside the other. “Really, Idolish6 are such good friends. It makes me honoured to be designing these gifts for them.”

Nanase-san’s smile is slightly hidden behind his fluffy scarf.

Outside, the first snow has long since begun. Nanase-san has abided by his chiding (“Do take better care of yourself. Can you imagine how your customers would feel if they know you’re tending to them at the risk of your health?”) and is dressed in thick layers, plain shirt, checkered shirt, sweater, and dull green coat all put together to form an ensemble. It would seem Nanase-san’s designing skills doesn’t just extend to pots and flowers.

“If Nanase-san is part of us, I would give you a squirrel.” Iori says flippantly.

“Eh?! Why?!”

 _Because you’re fluffy._ “Because you always puff out your cheeks when you’re mad – like squirrels stuffing their cheek pouches full of nuts.” Iori aims a pointed look at the other. “Just see for yourself. You’re doing that subconsciously right now.”

“Gh…Hmph! Iori would be a german shepherd. Always hounding the rest, like a sheepdog.”

“That doesn’t make me happy in the least.”

“Now you know how I feel!” Nanase-san huffs.

Nanase-san takes a peek back at him and they burst out in chuckles.

“Really though. I’m glad that I get the chance to make these Christmas gifts for Idolish6-san.” Nanase-san’s skilled hands fill the palm-sized pots with coloured rocks, gingerly nudging plastic flowers into their centres. Iori would submit himself to one of Osaka-san’s meals before he hands one of Nanase-san’s lovingly raised plants to Yotsuba-san. “I6 is always been bringing such joy to everyone… It makes me happy to be able to return just a bit of the joy you’ve been giving me, whether you know it or not.”

“I know.” He’s been seeing Nanase-san this whole time afterall. He smiles. “It’ll be nice one day if you could meet them.”

“Eh?! To meet the rest of I6?! T-There’s no way I would-!” Nanase-san fidgets.

“Heh? So you are actually capable of getting abashed, Nanase-san? That’s a surprise.” Iori smirks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Gck-! This guy…” Nanase-san twitches. “Not a shred of delicacy even for a fan…”

“But truly, the same can be said for us.” Iori says with a touch more sincerity. Nanase-san blinks. “We, Idolish6, are the ones truly fortunate to have you making such bouquets and gifts for us. I, personally, would continue to buy your pots for as long as you continue making them. They make me happy, like Idolish6 does with you.” He smiles warmly, shielding his embarrassment with the back of his hand. To talk this honestly with Nanase-san is a once in a year thing…

“Thanks for your hard work this past year, Nanase-san.”

“…This feels kind of weird. Us…talking like that.” Nanase-san flushes. “Hey, isn’t it weird? To call me Nanase-san even when you’re spilling your heart out? Just call me Riku already!” He says in a brash tone.

“Hah?! People are being sincere and yet…what kind of response is that?!” Iori snaps, quickly recollecting himself. “Besides… Nanase-san, you’re older than me, so it’s only basic manners to address you with the right honorific.”

“Ah! Did you just call me old? You totally did, didn’t you?” _Riku_ narrows his eyes at him.

Iori hides his smile behind a hand.

“That’s just your imagination.”

“Mean, annoying idol.”

“Childish, uncute florist.”

Riku rolls his eyes and places the pots into a container, passing the bag of them to him.

“You’re the one who’s not cute!” The florist huffs as he accepts his money.

“Obviously, because cuteness is not my selling point.” Iori banters right back, accepting his change.

Their eyes meet one last time, lips twitching in an effort to resist smiling – or at least on his side. He has to pretend and keep up this farce; a play-pretend of bickering that has allowed them to keep their friendship in their own way. – but Riku’s the one who gives in, allowing himself one fond, bright smile.

“Right. Because coolness is your selling point.” Riku reaches over the counter and smacks him right on the back, harsh and strong enough to startle. “Go get them at the Japan Idol Music Awards, Iori! I’m rooting for you!”

Smile shaken by the show of encouragement from a person who somehow matters, Iori struggles to not let it show on his face – how much those words matter to him after Idolish6 once more nearly disbanded. Even though he only joined so as to help Nii-san… even though he never intended to become the centre… Somehow, so long as him joining Idolish6 brings even a shred of light to this person’s life, it doesn’t seem to matter how beaten or battered they are. Iori still thinks he can keep going, if it can make Riku – their fan – smile.

(…Just a little… he wonders why he doesn’t feel the same as with other fans…?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>     Next Time on Hananase:
>     
>    
>    >  "Iori? Where did you go? It's rare that you're not catching up on your studies on a day off."
>>     "I just went for a short walk outside."
>>     [This isn't an issue with the agency, is it? There weren't any rules about relationships on the contract.]
>>     [I'll beat them up.]
>>     [ _Oh no..._ Violence is not good, _Tamaki._ ]
>>     [It's fine! I will go, Manager.]
>>     And all of that somehow snowballs into one another and ends up with Osaka Sougo at _Hananase_ 's door.
>>     
>     
>     
>     
> 
> Until the total number of chapters is actually listed, whenever you see me updating, it tends to be because I've lost motivation to write. It's not a good story to reveal... but I just want everyone to know how much your kudos, comments, bookmarks, and subscriptions matter. Thank you all so much for your support for this story. It's really moving, to see Hananase be liked!
> 
> Here's a motif of you guys always giving me motivation to continue Hananase:


	4. Gentian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sweetness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>       _Hananase Notes! :
>     ~ < 20th Jun: Music Festa
>     - 20th Jun: Rokuya Nagi's birthday [C1]
>     - 20th Aug: Idolish7's Debut
>     - 8th Sep: Ogami Banri's birthday [C2]
>     - 31st Dec: Japan Idol Music Awards [C3]
>     - 3rd Jan: Black or White Faceoffs
>     - 25th Jan: Izumi Iori's birthday [C4] _

It starts small – a singular oddity in the fine clockwork that’s Iori-kun’s routine.

“Iori? Where did you go? It’s rare that you’re not catching up on your studies on a day off.” Mitsuki-san was unsurprisingly the first to notice, looking up from the television.

Mid-preparation of Yamato-san’s morning coffee (Yamato-san is what Mitsuki-san fondly terms a ‘coffee nut’), Sougo raised his head out of curiosity. Tamaki-kun was still asleep and would remain so till the usual ten o’clock. Nagi-kun and Yamato-san were knocked out after another anime night, one in his room and the other flat out sprawled on the dining table so it was just Mitsuki-san and him that were present. Regardless, the look on Iori-kun’s face was as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of fireflies, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“I just went for a short walk outside.” Iori-kun may be apt at lying, but that line contrasted his expression far too much to be normal. “It’s none of your business, Nii-san.”

“…?” Mitsuki-san lifted a brow as they watched Ioki-kun retreated into his room. “…People are just concerned, sheesh! What was with that attitude?”

“I’m sure it’s just a rebellious phase.” Sougo tried to reassure. He himself didn’t undergo it, but he has to help somehow. “Iori-kun is at that age, isn’t he?”

“No… that look on his face… it’s more like that time he smuggled an abandoned kitten back home.” Mischief played on the lines of Mitsuki-san’s face. Oh no. “Ah, come to think of it, have I ever told you, Sougo? Iori used to have a real streak with abandoned animals back then—”

…

The next time it happens, it’s on Idolish6’s show.

“Here’s the first request! ‘Please tell us an obsession that you have currently! No matter how embarrassing they are-!’” Mitsuki-san raised the excitement easily with his energetic tone and open posture. “And that means no matter how embarrassing it is, Yamato, Nagi.” A pointed look at the other two members of Pythagoras Trio.

“Alright, alright. Onii-san currently is obsessed with the sake Trigger’s Ryuu delivered from Okinawa.” Yamato-san looked at the camera, a sly smile to pull the audience in. “With just the right mix of bitter and sweet, I’d die for a day I can just go there and drink all day. That’s how much Onii-san loves it.”

“Uwah~ You alcoholic. Be careful not to overdrink.” Mitsuki-san brilliantly covered up the fact that it may or may not be a lie. Yamato-san is a private person. None of them knows for sure what he’s doing in the backdrop at times. “And for Nagi!” The blonde perked up. “We’ll pass! Since we all know of his guilty pleasure!”

“ _Oh no…_ There’s no need to be so protective of my charms, _Mitsuki_. I LOVE KO—!” Nagi-kun was timely silenced by the folder Mitsuki-san slapped over his face.

The pair was charmingly hilarious. Sougo smiles even whilst concerned for Nagi-kun.

“Alriiiight~! Next up! Tamakiiii – let’s also skip him.”

“Eh? Why?!” Tamaki-kun reeled, affronted. “Why must I be skipped?!”

“Because your obsession is obvious, isn’t it? King Pudding! Finding Aya!” Yamato-san counted off his fingers. Tamaki-kun blanched. Yamato-san’s glasses glinted menacingly in the light. “Do you have any other answers, Tama?”

“Urgh… I have none.” Tamaki-kun reluctantly admitted.

“Good boy.” Yamato-san patted his partner’s head. Sougo can’t help but think of the scene as cute, even if Iori-kun must feel the sentiment stronger. He blinked when his name was called out by Mitsuki-san, the practiced polite smile coming to his lips.

“As for me… If I have to say, it would be cleaning and organizing?” He answered thoughtfully. “Those would technically classify under things I like, so I’m sorry if that doesn’t answer to the question.” He smiled apologetically.

“There’s no need to be concerned about such things, Sougo!” Mitsuki-san laughed. “It’s impossible to be obsessed with something without liking it first, right? Or rather, we’re all idols and our schedules are full. It’s hard anyways to find enough time to invest into something for it to be termed a proper obsession!”

“That’s…deep, Mikki.” Tamaki-kun commented.

“Moving on~! Ah, we’re putting our centre last, so if anyone wanna know, my obsession is Zero, alright?” He pointed at himself.

“What a sloppy MC…” Yamato-san complained half-heartedly.

“What was that?!” Mitsuki-san mock-raged in response, making Banri-san and the manager muffle their laughter behind the cameras.

“It’s my turn now, I suppose…” Iori-kun sighed, a hand lifted to his head in exasperation. “…I wouldn’t exactly call it an obsession, but recently, I’ve taken a bit of liking to collecting cute pots.”

His face was slightly flushed at the revelation of his love of cute, as always. Sougo felt his own eyes widen, remembering that instant back in the dorm. Perhaps… was Iori-kun merely smuggling in a cute pot…? That is incredibly misleading.

“Oh……pots? What kind?” Mitsuki-san prompted.

“Small tiny palm-sized ones… just small enough to fit entirely into my hand.” Iori-kun took a huge breath. He seemed thoroughly flustered by the ‘embarrassing’ hobby. “The first one I got was a kitten head shaped. With ears poking out and orange spots on a white ceramic and a cute face drawn on… I couldn’t resist the temptation and bought it. The florist teased me about it but asked for requests thereafter on the type of pots I’d like.” An almost absent-minded comment. Iori-kun’s face coloured faintly where the camera couldn’t catch it.

“Florist? A flower shop?” Tamaki-kun queried, confused.

Ah.

Sougo blinked and realized then. Was it… maybe… the florist from whom they got a bouquet for Banri-san and Nagi-kun?

“So they make ceramic pots of their own… What a novel idea.” Yamato-san commented.

“What? That wasn’t an embarrassing obsession at all! You misled us with all your blushing, Iori!” Mitsuki-san simultaneously comforted Iori-kun and guided the conversation along. “Next up! The second question is—”

…

The next time it crops up, it’s at the Christmas party.

“Here. It’s your Christmas present, Osaka-san.” Iori-kun had handed him with a smile. “Please be careful with it.”

Upon returning home to the privacy of his room, a gentle tug of the pastel purple pull-bow revealed a round ceramic pot that was modelled after a panda’s head, one round ear white and the other black. The panda was sleepily chewing on a bamboo leaf, a cute visage he imagined took Iori-kun much effort to give away. From within its head, multicoloured stones shone pastel rainbow, all in the colours of Idolish6 and an additional soft pink. From the heart of those tiny stones sprouts a purple dahlia put together with small glistening beads and translucent plastic – all in a fine manner that reflects its flower meaning of _Dignity. Elegance._

Sougo’s eyes widened. His breath was stolen away for a moment, stunned, by the pleasant gift that was from Iori-kun. He wondered if Iori-kun understood the meaning of the flower he chose.

“It means dignity and elegance, right?” Iori-kun answered simply when he asked. “I wasn’t aware of the meaning till it was made, but I thought it was perfect for you. Nanase-san apparently made the flowers with our image in mind.”

And if that didn’t blow his mind away, Sougo doesn’t know what else would.

“Is… this ‘Nanase-san’… a fan of ours?” He asked uncertainly, wrapping his shawl tighter around himself.

“A fan?” A fond smile came to Iori-kun’s lips then.

A concept that he’d suspected but hadn’t wanted to point out resurfaced in Sougo’s mind.

“He’s Idolish6’s fan. And also, my friend.” Iori-kun murmured those words so tenderly, it confirmed the suspicion in Sougo’s head. “He’s a bit of a die-hard fan for us, so he baulked at the suggestion of visiting the dorms. But if you have time, it’d be nice if you could visit his flower shop. That way, Nanase-san has no way to escape.”

The way he said it – blunt, and forward, without the guise of his centre self – made Sougo chuckle aloud. He wondered what kind of person Nanase-san is, to be able to endear himself to their tough centre.

“If that’s the case… I’ll definitely visit one day.” The smile played on his lips.

Come to think of it, next month would be Iori-kun’s birthday… wouldn’t it?

…

The manager had the same idea.

[Takanashi Tsumugi: What about the florist we went to during Banri-san’s birthday?]

She messaged into the secret RabbitChat.

[Rokuya Nagi: _Oh…_ That’s perfect!]

[Nikaido Yamato: No complains here.]

[Izumi Mitsuki: By the looks of it, Iori’s pretty fond of that florist.]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: Don’t you mean he totally likes him?]

[Osaka Sougo: Tamaki-kun!]

[Izumi Mitsuki: That’s what I was trying not to say too!]

[Osaka Sougo: I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! But… Manager, please…! Please just overlook this for Iori-kun’s birthday!]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: ? Why’re you apologizing, Sou-chan?]

[Nikaido Yamato: …Ignoring untactful boys who blurt out things without consideration, this isn’t an issue with the agency, is it? There weren’t any rules about relationships on the contract when we signed ourselves to the agency.]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: No, it’s not a problem.]

[Rokuya Nagi: What a relief…]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: If anything, I think that for Iori-kun to find someone he so clearly likes… it’s a huge celebrative event! He’s always working himself twice as hard to stand taller than anyone else, so it is reassuring that he has someone he can talk to about his problems outside of Idolish6.]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: It’s just… I’m concerned… about what the mass media would say.]

[Nikaido Yamato: Ahh… I was concerned about them too. Those vultures would dig their claws into every bit of news they can get on us.]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: What…are you saying? Isn’t it fine if Iorin is happy?!]

[Izumi Mitsuki: We’re saying these because he might not be! What if those guys bully my younger brother for liking Nanase?!]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: I’ll beat them up. ヽ(`⌒´メ)ノ]

[Rokuya Nagi: _Oh no…_ Violence is not good, _Tamaki._ ]

[Rokuya Nagi: If anything, you should open a mass conference to open up their _hearts_ and show them the wrong in their ways. Love should be supported, no matter what form they’re in. Those who stand in the path of love should be eliminated!]

[Nikaido Yamato: That line sounds familiar. You’re not quoting MagiKona again, are you, Nagi?]

[Rokuya Nagi: _YES! Oh,_ to reach the extent where you even remember the lines… _Yamato_ is becoming a fine _hardcore_ fan as well.]

[Nikaido Yamato: Well. It is my job to remember lines.]

[Izumi Mitsuki: You guys… I’m glad you’re all concerned for Iori, but you scare me at times.]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: T-The agency will try our best to protect Iori-kun from the media, so please don’t resort to violence!]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: ＼(º □ º l|l)/]

[Osaka Sougo: That goes without saying! If it ever comes down to such a situation, I’ll do my best to stop Tamaki-kun from punching the reporters!]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: Sou-chan, you’re one to say.]

[Osaka Sougo: What do you mean?]

[Nikaido Yamato: Putting that aside.]

[Nikaido Yamato: Who’s going to get the flowers?]

[Nikaido Yamato: Manager, you have the address, don’t you?]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: Ah, yes, I do! Here it is!]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: I don’t mind going down to the flower shop to place the order but it will be last minute due to some scheduling issues… Then again, we could always call, but I can’t help but think it might be better to discuss the flowers in person…]

[Osaka Sougo: Ah, it’s fine! I will go, Manager.]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: Eh? Sougo-san will?]

[Osaka Sougo: Yes. That address is just on the way after one of MEZZO’s jobs, so we might as well. That way, it’s more convenient, and we won’t have to trouble the manager to get to the other side of town.]

[Nikaido Yamato: Sou would be the best representative to send as part of Idolish anyways. Just a show of hands, but does anyone here besides Sou know anything about flower language?]

[Izumi Mitsuki: Nope.]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: Flower language? What is that? Flowers can speak…?!]

[Rokuya Nagi: Oh! Then I believe sakura must be the flower singing songs of love! I heard that in Japan, spring is the season of love-!]

[Nikaido Yamato: Point proven.]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: Ahahaha… I, too, am not too knowledgeable in that topic… If it isn’t too troublesome, it would be very helpful if you could be our representative to get the flowers, Sougo-san…]

[Osaka Sougo: It’s no trouble at all. I’m glad to be able to do something for Iori-kun.]

[Takanashi Tsumugi: Thank you very much.]

[Nikaido Yamato: Then, it’s settled.]

[Nikaido Yamato: Mitsu will be in charge of the food as always. Nagi will take over games this time round. I’ll run interference for Ichi. Tama, you make sure to go get the party goods at the mall while Sou’s busy with flowers. Don’t forget your individual birthday gifts either, guys!]

[Yotsuba Tamaki: Okay~~~]

[Rokuya Nagi: _Alright!_ ]

[Osaka Sougo: I’ll head over this Thursday to make the order!]

[Izumi Mitsuki: lol Everyone sure are geared up and ready to celebrate Iori’s birthday!]

…

And all of that somehow snowballs into one another and ends up with him at _Hananase_ ’s door.

Sougo takes a moment to take in the view, a misty breath escaping his lips as he peers up at the name carved into the mahogany wood. The store looks like a warm escape away from the snow around them. The flowers are all safely inside, and from where he stood, he sees the smiling florist, dressed warmly in woollen sweaters and an apron and oversized gardening gloves.

Steeling himself, he takes a step in.

The bell he hadn’t expected jingles. The florist looks up, and Sougo’s startled by his bright smile.

“Welcome!” He chimed, just a bit of a breathy rasp to his voice that instigated some concern. The florist coughs lightly, holding a hand up, and shakes his head. “D-Don’t worry. The cold is just a bit unbearable these days.” He shudders, hugging himself.

“Ah…” Sougo feels warm, actually. The heaters of the store make him feel tempted to pull off his coat and disguise. He doesn’t, fearing he’d make the florist uncomfortable. “…Excuse me, but are you the rumoured Nanase Riku-san?”

“Rumoured?” The florist blinks, looking amused. He chuckles. It’s a child-like but warm sound that’s pleasant to hear. “Am I really that well known…? Who did you hear about me from?”

It’s then that the florist takes a closer look at him and carnelian eyes widen dramatically. His voice falters.

“…You’re… O…saka…Sougo-?! MPFH-!”

Sougo claps his own gloved hand over the other’s lips.

“I-I’m sorry! Please don’t call out my name in such a loud voice!” He hisses apologetically, eyes flickering around the store.

“MPHHMPHFTH!” The florist flails.

“Sorry… I’m really sorry!” Sougo apologizes frantically. “Please… I’ll let you go if you just promise to be quiet, so…!”

“Mh-hm! Mh…!” The florist nods, eyes wide with fear.

They slump when they part, Sougo retracting his gloved hand for fear of scaring the other, Nanase Riku… just panting, coughing slightly into the back of his hand as he slumps down the shelf of fertilizers that are behind him. Carnelian eyes are wide, boring up at him. Sougo’s not sure if it’s due to his unreasonable admiration (like all fans out there) or out of sheer terror for a man who treated him with such violence.

“I-I’m sorry for my harsh treatment…” He dips his head. “I’ve just gotten a bit paranoid after my last disguise was found out on the street.”

He winces, still, at the memory. Black or white may have been a triumphant victory for them, but never again does he dare walk the streets without a mask on his face.

“…hah…I’m the only one in store right now, Sougo-san…!” Nanase-san pant, the edges of his parted lips twitching up in exasperation. “There’s no need to be so afra _id_ …* _Cough*_ ”

Another cough, muffled by a hand. That’s happening often enough to be a cause for worry.

“Erm… Are you…alright…?” He asks tentatively. “If you’re feeling bad, I’ll call the doctor for you.”

“It’s fine.”

The florist shakes his head, rising to his feet.

“It’s just the usual.” He says it with a gentle smile, shoving his sickness aside easily. Sougo’s starting to wonder if Iori-kun does have a different reason for returning as often as he did.

“So!” Nanase-san steps forward, a bounce to his steps that’s not unlike Mitsuki-san. His voice is raspy but cheerful as he continues. “You’re here to get a bouquet for Iori, aren’t you?! I’ve already had a few ideas since a while back. I’ve been waiting for a call from Takanashi Productions for a while, actually!” He beams with a bubbly attitude that negates the embarrassment of before easily.

“Eh… Is that so…? How do you…?” Sougo answers his own question as soon as it escapes. “Ah. Of course. It’s because of our history with you. Thank you for your bouquets for Nagi-kun and Banri-san. They really loved your flowers.”

It would be an exaggeration had it not been true. Nagi-kun had been devastated when his bouquet wilted. Even then, he framed up a photo of it.

“That’s what I heard from Iori!” Nanase-san beams. He catches himself. “Ah, sorry. I shouldn’t be so personal with you, should I? Iori’s always reproaching me about being more professional to new clients… I lost track of myself because I’m always seeing you guys on television, and Iori talks so much about you…” Nanase-san scratches the side of his head sheepishly. “…I guess Iori’s not wrong…?”

Nanase-san is a warm-hearted person. Sougo feels more at ease, talked to as if he isn’t _elegant. Refined._ More like a friend than an idol.

He smiles kindly, meaning every bit of the warmth that seeps into the trained politeness of his voice.

“There’s no need to use such polite language with me, Nanase-san. Any friend of Iori-kun is a friend of Idolish6.”

“…heheh.” Nanase-san flushes lightly, smiling into his scarf. “Somehow, I feel really honoured about that. Even though it’s _that_ Iori.”

The sudden affronted tone of his word takes Sougo aback. He was just about to revise his impression of the florist when Nanase-san continued.

“Really. When I met him last week, he was already making all those suggestions for his bouquet. What _gentian_? He’s hardly sweet enough to get that flower, that meanie! If anything, he should be getting a lady’s slipper!” Lady’s slipper. That means _capricious beauty._ Nanase-san looks adorably huffy as he says those words. It makes Sougo burst into soft chuckles.

“W-What?” Nanase-san colours again.

“…N-No,” Sougo stutters through his laughter, trying to regain his breath. “I was just wondering how Iori-kun hid you from us for such a long time.” That child… he must be type to hide the things he loves from the world. Sougo lets another soft huff of laughter slip. “I take it Iori-kun was already expecting us here?”

“Well…” Nanase-san averts his eyes, flustered. “It’s something like that…?” He lifts his eyes and gaze at him hesitantly.

“I’m glad.” Even though now, he wonders if that child is the type to hide or show off the things he loves. Afterall, he can’t help but get the feeling Iori-kun is shouting out to Idolish6 about how much he adores Nanase-san – who’s endearing in every sense. He smiles at Nanase-san’s confused hum. “That makes it easier to decide on the bouquet for Iori-kun. Since you’re a friend of Iori-kun, I’d like to hear your suggestions, if you don’t mind?”

Nanase-san’s eyes light up, like Nagi-kun’s with his MagiKona.

Now, unlike MagiKona, flower language happens to be a topic he’s able to keep up with.

He listens to the suggestions for the next hour, proposing ones of his own and accepting the warm milk with honey _and_ seat when Nanase-san closes shop early to finish their discussion of Iori-kun’s bouquet. He wonders if Iori-kun was similarly invited behind the store at some point of time. Iori-kun doesn’t seem the type to impose, however welcoming Nanase-san is. He probably was but didn’t accept. At the end of the day, he’s seen to the door with a sweet smile warm enough to melt snow.

“Uwah… It’s been a long time since I managed to get such detailed ideas for a bouquet. Most customers usually just tell me ‘whatever’, too!” Nanase-san sighs in bliss.

“It was fun talking about flowers with you, Nanase-san.” Sougo smiles. Just staying within this warm store and talking with Nanase-san made him understand why Iori-kun’s so enamoured.

“Oh, come on, Sougo-san! Just call me ‘Riku’ already! You’re older than me, aren’t you?” A friendly pout.

“…Then, Riku-kun.”

“…! Uwah… I finally got one member of Idolish6 to call me by name. How lucky am I?” Riku-kun gushes. Sougo chuckles. What had seemed like a dangerous meeting is now a farewell with what he hopes is a friend of theirs. Riku-kun beams. “You’re a lot kinder than I expected, Sougo-san! Gentler and more approachable… how do I put it? You’re a lot more human than you seemed on television!”

He’s taken aback.

“Is that… a good thing…?” His voice wavers with uncertainty.

“Definitely a good thing!” Riku-kun’s bright voice washes away his troubles at once. “I can see why Iori’s always so fond of you… Do come over to my store any day! I’ll make time for you – and it doesn’t just have to be for talks on flowers!”

Riku-kun’s smile is blurred with the sentiment that’s bubbling up on the inside. It’s odd, to be feeling such affection for a fan who’s not even their own member. Sougo had never warmed up to someone with such ease, not even a member of Idolish6…

He straightens himself, smiles through the warmth in his chest – and reaches out for the first time in his life to pat a person on the head.

“You’re a good boy, Riku-kun. I’ll definitely come back someday.” If it’s Riku-kun, Iori-kun will definitely be in good hands. “Then, I’ll see you on the day of Iori-kun’s birthday.”

He leaves the fan broken with a beet red face and inaudible voice. Sougo’s boots sink into the snow as he makes his way back. Tamaki-kun has probably finished shopping and is waiting for him back home. …Just a little, he wonders if this is what it feels like to have a sibling. He thinks he can understand Tamaki-kun’s desperate urge to search for Aya-chan more now.

…

“What kind of kid was he?” Mitsuki-san stage-whispered, eyes narrowed imperceptibly.

“Riku-kun is a good boy.” Sougo answers with a smile. “Bright and cheerful and honest. He’s a good match for Iori-kun.”

“Hm… Is that so. If Sougo says so, then I’ll take your word for it.” Mitsuki-san lifts his head to his still fussing brother. Sougo sipped lightly on his champagne as the agency celebrates Iori-kun’s birthday – all except Iori-kun himself, that is. “Heyyy, when are you going to clean the place until, Iori? The party can’t start without the main character here!” He calls out.

“That’s all because you guys made the order a delivery! Nanase-san has asthma – he’s weak to animal fur!” Iori-kun tosses over his shoulder.

“ _Oh…_ _Iori_ ’s acting exactly just like a protective mother with a newborn child.” Nagi-kun murmurs softly.

“In that case, wouldn’t it make Mitsuki the Dad? Their family name fits the bill at least.” Yamato-san snorts and downs another cup. “Or rather – isn’t Nanase just coming over to deliver the flowers? Did he say he’ll be staying here for the party?”

Yamato-san looks over to him.

Sougo is stumped at the question. The florist hadn’t seemed likely to stay when he asked back then. But if it’s Iori-kun who’s suggesting…

“…That florist guy should stay if Iorin wants him to. It’s Iorin’s birthday anyways.” Tamaki-kun interjects.

_Ding dong!_

“I’ll get the door!” Iori-kun dashes to the door at record speed.

“Love enables _Iori_ to get anywhere with blazing speed.” Nagi comments.

“It’s just within the dorms though.” Yamato-san snorts.

“Somehow… Iorin’s cute.” Tamaki-kun chirps in his own awkwardly phrased manner.

“I’m sure Iori-kun is eagerly anticipating his own bouquet.” Sougo smiles delicately, tracing his own glass of champagne gingerly. It shines bright in the light, twinkling like the glass beads that are still on his dahlia. He still hasn’t the slightest idea how the bouquet turned out – except for the fact that it’d be full of the things Idolish6 have always wanted to say to Iori-kun – and probably some messages Riku-kun surely bears of his own. In the doorway, he hears the light bantering he had imagined that Thursday night whilst speaking to Iori-kun’s ‘friend’ about him.

The door closes with a creak. Iori-kun coughs to regain his composure and walks back with a bouquet in one arm, a tiny box in his other hand.

“Hmm… It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Yamato-san lifts a brow. For obvious reasons, Iori-kun flushes.

“Thank you, Osaka-san. I heard from him that you helped with the designing process…?” Iori-kun dips his head in a small appreciative nod.

“It wasn’t much, Iori-kun. Riku-kun was easy to work with and incredibly endearing.” Sougo smiles fondly, feeling a tad disappointed the boy hadn’t joined them. Well, if he’s a fan of theirs, the presence of all of them might just give him a heart attack.

“I can’t see, Iorin~” Tamaki-kun whines from his seat on the couch.

“*Sigh* You should just stand up, Yotsuba-san.” Even so, Iori-kun leans in.

From the sheets of black and indigo that are delicately tied together with the bold navy blue of Iori-kun’s signature Idolish6 colour, a huge bundle of flowers fills it to the brim, intricately laced and formatted to compliment each other’s conflicting beauty. Delphinium, _boldness, open heart,_ is the first that all eyes are drawn to, vibrant and huge in the bouquet of flowers. Then followed by splotches of elderflowers, _kindness and humility_ , and faint eryngium, _independence_ , as well as fennels, _strength._ Yellow freesias, _trust_ , decorate the bundle all over, hues of yellow standing out from the blue and discrete white. Some ferns, _confidence_ , have also been slotted into the back of the bouquet, just the way they had discussed for a good ten minutes back at Hananase. And then… white delicate mayflowers. _It’s only just beginning._

In short, it’s everything that embodies Iori-kun to the Idolish6 of today. Everything that they want to convey and everything they noticed after months of hard work and effort. Sougo’s eyes flicker to Iori-kun’s carefully pensive expression. He wonders if the other realizes what they’re trying to say.

“What’s that, Iori?” Mitsuki-san notices the box Iori-kun was carrying.

“T-This is-!” Iori-kun is quick to move it away from view.

“ _What_? A figurine? Let me see too, _please._ ”

“No. You’re the only one who would think that.” Mitsuki-san deadpans.

Sougo thinks he has a fairly good idea, seeing the lack of Riku-kun in the bouquet. He must have prepared a separate gift for Iori-kun.

“…No. It’s a bit embarrassing, but… if I’m not wrong,” Iori-kun loosens the blue ribbon from the box. They peer over and find the face of a german shepherd peering out at them, a bone between its teeth. The same coloured pebbles root a single bluebottle in its grasp, seated right beside an overlooking gentian and a single geranium standing out with its shade of vibrant red. _Perfection. Sweetness. And comfort or stupidity…?_

Sougo stifles a laugh politely with his hand. Iori-kun facepalms.

“It’s just as I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>     Iori's Bouquet has been nicely drawn [here](https://twitter.com/kitbis/status/1027363814210199552?s=07) by kitbits!
>     Lots of thanks to them for their effort with this! (★^O^★)


	5. Cactus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Maternal Love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>       _Hananase Notes! :
>     ~ < 20th Jun: Music Festa
>     - 20th Jun: Rokuya Nagi's birthday [C1]
>     - 20th Aug: Idolish7's Debut
>     - 8th Sep: Ogami Banri's birthday [C2]
>     ~ 31st Dec: Japan Idol Music Awards [C3]
>     ~ 3rd Jan: Black or White Faceoffs
>     - 25th Jan: Izumi Iori's birthday [C4] 
>     - 14th Feb: Nikaido Yamato's birthday [C5]
>     ~ 28th Feb: Trigger's Debut _
>     
>     + I'm writing this with the assumption that past Riku's mental age is younger than he is. 
>     
>     + Also, for reference, you can imagine Iori using “okusan” [奥さん] whenever he says “mdm”. It’s the polite Japanese translation of the word, but I’ll be using english since more people will understand it that way

 

Two silhouettes work around the warm space of _Hananase_ that day, kindly expressions on their face.

A young-looking woman with long locks of crimson tucked neatly behind a rosy pink bandana smiles as delicate hands clip off the ends of the roses, encasing the roots in small bottles of water. She brushes down the dark apron which she dons over her long earthy green skirt and white blouse, nimbly picking up the flowers and turning – with a lighter flutter of her skirt – to place within the cooling system.

Off to the back of the store, in a space that was ever present but Iori has never seen used, a man with light-pinkish locks is picking up palm-sized clay pots to paint in the colours. His eyes, with the slightest wrinkles, peer out diligently through his lenses. Calloused hands form strokes after strokes, his folded legs and studious posture painting the picture of an artist in the soft light that filtered through.

He wonders if they are related to Riku…

The snow has mostly melted by now as the days march closer to Nikaido-san’s birthday – or Valentines. His phone buzzes with messages from the new secret RabbitChat. He’s convinced secrecy is nil from the moment it started; Nikaido-san is always steps ahead of them, and they have the routine pat down by now. It doesn’t make it easier albeit, this time being Nikaido’s birthday means they lack a prominent leader to get everyone settled. Osaka-san is running himself ragged trying to mediate. Nii-san doesn’t care so long as food is not handled by either of the MEZZO pair. And Iori? He’s…

The bell jingles as the door is opened. For the first time, an occupant of Hananase steps out, a soft smile on her face.

“Are you Iori-kun?” Riku’s relative calls out, voice chiming gently. “It must be cold out here. Come on in! Riku’s already told us to expect you~!”

“H-Hah… Is that so.” He reluctantly steps in, unable to deny her hospitality.

The door is still the same in every way. The lady walks with a skip in her step that’s similar to Riku’s – and yet, somehow different

“Is Nanase-san not here today?” He asks, hoping not to sound so obviously disappointed.

“Riku’s down with a cold today.”

_Achoo!_

Iori blinks wide eyes. He thinks he heard a sneeze somewhere. The lady giggles, hiding a smile behind her palm.

“And that’s him upstairs. That child… he always gets sick around this season. It’s worrying.” She sighs with a palm to her face. “We wanted to make him stay at the hospital for his own sake… but he kept insisting on coming back because of the hospitalization fees. Even though we told him to just stop worrying about that…” She sighs, heavier this time.

“Pardon my rudeness, but Nanase-san never mentioned he has an older sister…?” Iori blinks, confused.

“Hm? We’re his parents, Nanase Shiori and Nanase Masaomi.” The lady points to herself and the other man within the backroom.

“ _E-EH?!”_

_Riku sniffled at the sound, turning over in his bed. Ahh… he wants to hurry up and get to sleep so he can get better already…_

Iori slaps a hand over his mouth in realization.

“P-Please excuse me for the noise!” He whispers frantically, eyes darting up. He wonders if he disturbed Riku with that sound. “You appeared so young, it never occurred to me you might be his parent…!”

“Heheh! It makes me flattered that you’d think that way.”

Nanase Shiori folds her hands delicately over each other, a demure smile on her face and that line… it is a bit reminiscent of Riku in a way that makes his absence sting. As soon as the thought enters his mind, his attention is focused back on the dignified posture of the lady.

“Thank you for always taking care of my child, as adorably clumsy as he may be. It’s strange even now to think Riku has a friend who’s an idol… but I’m glad. That he has someone reliable who he can talk to about various things.”

 _Like his older brother._ Appears to be the unsaid words that are added with the flutter of her eyes. Mdm Nanase must be troubled too, by the circumstances her children are in.

“Nanase-san… he still hasn’t talked to his older brother yet?” His eyes soften.

Mdm Nanase brushes a lock behind her ears.

“No, not yet, I’m afraid.” Her smile is tinted with melancholy. “It’s not surprising after all that they have been through. From the time they were in my belly to the time they were separated, they’ve always been together afterall. I’m sure… even now, Riku still blames himself for being the cause of the separation… even though the blame should lie with no one but us for being incapable of supporting them financially.” Her murmur is accompanied by a downcast of carnelian eyes. “He doesn’t know how to approach his brother after so long.”

“Mdm…” Iori murmurs, not knowing what to say.

“But that’s our own Nanase matters!” Mdm Nanase beams. “There’s no need for you to worry about it. We’re just grateful that you’re there for him.” Her smile is bright, hiding the small piece of dusk he saw behind it in that instance.

Nanase-san must have been raised in a protected household till his older brother was cruelly ripped from him. That explains how he remains so bright in a reality as harsh as this. Why he was traumatized by the separation.

“Mdm…” He calls again, longing to offer his help.

“Mh?” Mdm Nanase blinks, tilting her head attentively.

“…No, it’s nothing.”

He probably shouldn’t interfere with another’s household matters. As an idol, it would be unprofessional to involve himself in the private matters of another public figure. He shouldn’t prod his nose where it doesn’t belong.

“I’m sorry for not bringing a get-well gift. I wasn’t aware that Nanase-san was ill today.” He furrows his brows apologetically.

“There’s no need to be worried about something like that.” Mdm Nanase brushes his apology off with a kind smile. “More importantly, Riku told me you would come for Nikaido Yamato-kun’s birthday bouquet soon. Must the designer be Riku? Would you mind letting an old maid like me make the critical designs?” She pauses and sniffles tearfully. “Or am I no good…?”

And Iori being himself, naturally grows flustered at the question.

“O-Of course not! I’m sure Nikaido-san would be glad to have you designing his bouquet—”

“Then, that’s perfect! I already have a few ideas on my hands~!” The woman beams sweetly, swiping out a notebook from the table desk. Iori watches, bewildered. It slowly dawns upon him how he might have been the naïve one here, to think Riku’s mother would just be like him.

“You sure got me, Mdm Nanase.” He sighs, an exasperated smile on his lips.

“Just call me Shiori, Iori-kun~” Shiori-san giggles demurely. “I look forward to designing for Nikaido Yamato-kun!”

“I’m sure you are.” Iori huffs through his smile.

The soft expression on his face slips away at another buzz of his phone – the vibrations making a sound on the counter. It’s a message from Nikaido-san, reminding of the other task he has here.

“Ah, that’s right. I was intending to say this after the consultation for Nikaido-san’s bouquet is done, but I was actually sent here on another task. If it isn’t any trouble, would you mind putting two orders in…?” Shiori-san already has another record book out by the time he finishes his words.

“That’s perfectly fine by me, Iori-kun.” A delicate smile and pen held ready between slender fingers. “So one is Yamato-kun’s birthday and the other is…?”

“It’s for Trigger.” Iori answers bluntly, lunching into the explanation he’s grown accustomed to with Riku by now. “Soon, at the end of February, it will be Trigger’s 2nd anniversary. Since they sent a huge flower basket to celebrate Idolish6’s nomination for the Japan Idol Music Awards, we would like to do the same for them by returning a flower hamper this anniversary.”

He smiles, the memory of Trigger’s flower basket flashing behind his vision for a fraction of second. Filled to the brim with flowers meanings he hadn’t known then, Trigger’s congratulations had stood grander and taller than any other flowers they received that day. It had been a very Trigger-esque gift.

“…A flower hamper for…Trigger…”

Shiori-san’s voice brings him back from the memory trip.

Above them, the sound of the air-conditioner infiltrates the room. A constant, unfaltering noise, almost as mechanical as the words that left Shiori-san’s lips. That warm, welcoming smile slips from them for a moment. Carnelian eyes gaze at him, looking ever so slightly, devastated.

Iori freezes in concern.

“…Shiori…san? Is there a problem?” The words escape his lips in a panicking breath.

Hearing that query, Shiori-san appears to shake herself out of her surprise. A smile curves her lips. She puts her fingers together before herself, looking apologetic for her uncharacteristic pause. Iori stills.

“No, no, there’s not an issue at all! I was just finding it strange, how you’d like a flower hamper instead of a basket for Trigger-san. It reminded me of how one of our previous acquaintances did the same thing when Hananase opened.” She giggles into a half-curled hand, dainty and elegant.

With the amiability entering her posture, it’s hard to not get dragged into her pace.

“He said it was because it’d be strange to send flowers to a flower shop – that it’d be better to have chocolates so Riku could enjoy them! I wouldn’t dare to suspect, but is there a similar reason with Trigger-san?”

…Was that pause just now a figment of his imagination?

Iori peers, puzzled, at the engaged smile of Shiori-san and her body posture leaning in ever so slightly.

…If there is an issue regarding the hamper for Trigger, Shiori-san doesn’t seem like she’d let it interfere with her professionalism. He should trust her for now that she’d do a good job. (She _is_ Riku’s mother for a reason.)

“…That does sound quite strange indeed.” Relaxing, Iori allows himself to be guided away by the conversation. “I myself am not overly close with Trigger, but… let’s see. I have heard from our manager that Yaotome-san is the type to eat only the strawberries from the cake—”

…

Aloe. _Grief._

The first year was the worst. Because every day was like another monochromic day in the hospital. Alone. Without Tenn-Nii. Sick. Sick. _Sick._ And Mom was always smiling before him even though it looked painful to do so. And Mom cried into Dad’s shoulder every time Riku dared to slip out of his hospital bed – like that one single time he had done so to try and find Tenn-Nii back when they were eight. He did so often in the middle of the night these days. He still thought he might find Tenn-Nii.

But Tenn-Nii wasn’t anywhere to be found.

By the time he was brought home, it was to an empty room cleared of Tenn-Nii’s things. Mom’s smile looked teary even when she brought Riku into her arms; when he asked with a wavering voice “Where is Tenn-Nii?”. And his shoulder felt wet under her face when he burst out in sobs.

“Why are you crying, Mom? Where is Tenn-Nii?!” He had clawed at her blouse and she’d clung on in silence until his breaths became hard to take and they had to force the inhaler to his mouth again.

He woke up being shaken, tears raining down on him.

“Breathe, Riku. Please.” It was the first time he saw Mom crying openly before him. “ _Breathe._ Your Tenn-Nii wouldn’t want you to die. Please. Please……don’t leave your Mommy like he did…” Mom was whimpering and pleading.

In the small room that had been shared between him and Tenn-Nii, Riku saw it then – a small little red and green cactus, standing in the light falling through the window sill. It was his last piece of Tenn-Nii, the last memory he could properly cling to. Riku felt the tears surge up again. This time, his throat closed in and he could still breathe, but it hurt his chest so, so much.

He reached up. Gripped Mom’s yellow blouse with a weak hand. Mom opened her eyes for the first time. She’s snivelling and sobbing.

“Mooom…” He was wailing too. “Why isn’t Tenn-Nii here?”

Peering at him through eyes filled with tears, Riku _alive_ was all Shiori wanted. She clung onto him with all her might – the way she couldn’t with Tenn, the way she had with Tenn up till the moment Tenn took her by the shoulders with his small, tiny hands, and explained logic to her – and the truth spilled from her lips in unaccusing, sorry, hitched sobs. Begging for forgiveness. Riku didn’t understand all of it, but he did know Tenn-Nii was lost because of him.

They clung to each other and cried – till Dad gathered them up and took them to the bed to sleep off the tears.

 

Cactus. _Maternal Love. Affection._

Tenn-Nii was always looking after him and the cactus. Tenn-Nii was his best friend in the way nobody else could be. …Now, it’s just the two of them left. Riku and Cactus.

Riku watered the cactus.

He remembered how he complained each time Tenn-Nii took time in the morning to sprinkle some water over the cactus; how he didn’t want a shred of Tenn-Nii’s attention to leave him. Watering the cactus was fun. He imagined Tenn-Nii complaining about him too, if he had watered his own cactus. The cactus seemed to smile with its tiny red flower in the glow of the sun.

Riku fed the cactus.

When the cactus was turning yellow, Mom got him a book on baby cactuses so he could look it up. Cactuses require food too, like people. And the proper term for lots of cactus is ‘cacti’, not ‘cactuses’. Upon putting in the tiny pellets, Riku waited and stared. It took three days for Cactus to turn green again. It seemed to thank him when he turned it around, such that its tilted angle was facing him. He wondered when the last time he thanked Tenn-Nii was.

Riku took Cactus out of the sun during summer.

Cacti sunburn like people too, the book said. He sang songs to it, wondering if Cacti want to listen to songs as well. And he prodded it, wondering if Cactus will fight back. Cactus tilted and toppled onto the ground, making Riku pick it back up with a guilty “Sorry”. Cactus is like him, in a way. It needs food and water and sunburns. It is also quick to fall when hit. It also can’t run or move or even speak, like when he’s sick.

Cactus is like him.

And Tenn-Nii took care of both him and the Cactus the way he was taking care of Cactus now.

Being taken care of felt good. The world was like a safe bubble around him. He didn’t have to worry about a thing. (Even though Mom cried. Even though Dad worked tirelessly to pay off his medical bills. Even though Tenn-Nii seemed disheartened at some moments he couldn’t understand. Everything was okay because Tenn-Nii still smiled for him. Until Tenn-Nii was ripped away. Until Tenn-Nii walked away, because he wanted Riku to be okay. Even though he’s not.)

…If Tenn-Nii took care of him and Mom took care of him back then as well, he wonders who took care of Tenn-Nii?

He started to call the Cactus ‘Tenn-Nii’. Just because.

 

Daffodil. _Please love me._

He wonders if Tenn-Nii still remembers him now.

He wonders if Tenn-Nii still wants him now.

He’s the worst little brother anyone could have… From birth, he stole Mom and Dad’s attention away from Tenn-Nii. And Tenn-Nii was essentially forced to take care of him because he’s healthy and Riku’s not. And Riku was always begging for more, even when Tenn-Nii tried his best to give everything he could. Until eventually, even his life was taken away to be dictated, to be given to Riku.

He wonders if Tenn-Nii hates him now.

Riku wakes up from a sweat-soaked dream with the feverish heat blinding him.

Even now, it still doesn’t feel like he’s woken up from a nightmare.

But slowly, surely, the coolness of the winter outside sinks into his sore skin. The sweat dries and he feels a bit more awake, looking around his moon-illuminated room and the empty shopping district below his window. There’s nobody around. And his phone has several unread messages when he reaches out for it.

_(“Your Nii-san cared enough to leave home for your sake at a young age. There’s no way he wouldn’t want you now, would he?”)_

Iori’s words flicker to mind as his eyes scan the name that’s brightly lit on his phone.

“Hah…” Riku lays his cheek on his sheet-covered knees.

There’s no telling how Tenn-Nii feels. Not when Riku realized everything too late, and certainly not when fuzzy memories of two laughing twins are distorted by regrets of _what-if_ and _what-should-be_ …

He swipes to view the message.

[Izumi Iori: I placed an order today, for Nikaido-san. As I thought, even though it can’t be helped if you’re still sick, I’d really like you to be the one to make Idolish6’s bouquets. Please don’t tell Shiori-san about this though.]

A tired smile comes to his lips. Mom must have teased Iori. That guy… he is fun to tease, afterall.

[Izumi Iori: I’ve also heard… about your older twin brother, from your mother.]

[Izumi Iori: I realize that this may seem meddlesome of me, but… If you ever feel like you’re finally ready to reach out to your brother, please contact me at any time. I will do my best to aid you where I can.]

Carnelian eyes widen.

[Izumi Iori: I…would like to consider myself your friend, even if I am who I am.]

[Izumi Iori: Not to mention, it’d be troublesome too, if Idolish6’s florist can’t focus on picking the right flowers because he’s too troubled by his circumstances.]

“…Pft!”

Riku muffles a snicker. That tsundere…!

Slowly, the daze of the memories drains away and becomes firmly rooted by the knowledge that _Iori is here. I am here. This is reality._ He finds it more possible to rise to his feet and tend to the store, even when the stress of Trigger’s anniversary and Tenn-Nii weigh down his mind. There are customers like Iori, afterall, who pleases him with their smiles and who he wants to please with his flowers. He can’t just leave them alone…!

…

The front of the shop is dark with the lights turned off. A single sign hangs on the front, neat letter-shaped vines spelling out ‘CLOSED’. At the back of the flower shop, the woman thumbs through the photos of two boys. It’s the last album she has, the only she managed to keep against the contract Tenn made her sign. How pathetic, for a parent to have to keep magazines and buy photo albums thereafter for a glimpse at their own child.

A soft breath escapes. Crimson lashes flutter as she remembers the conversation she had with that boy who came in – the young man known as Izumi Iori.

He bears all the connections necessary to bring her children together again.

It doesn’t matter that she could regain a chance to see Tenn; no one’s as important as those two, who had their fingers wrapped around each other from the moment they were born. Nothing hurt as much as watching Riku hurt from the loss of Tenn – There has been two all along, from the moment she caressed her belly with the knowledge that there’s life inside; two, that were never meant to be separated, and who are both equally torn by the separation. She would know that Tenn’s smiles are fake. It’s her who taught him to smile that way afterall. A failure of a parent being emulated…

But even so… If she says she’s happy it’s her they were born to… Is that bad…?

There’s a clatter in a kitchen as the man steps out. A soft clinking of a ceramic mug against a glass table, accompanied by the draping of soft fabric over her shoulders. Nanase Shiori leans into Nanase Masaomi’s touch for comfort.

Beside her, a slip of a certain order lingers.

“…We’ll be alright.” Masaomi whispers, ever the man of few words. His grasp on her is gentle but firm. “We’ll pull through.”

She hopes his words are right, for the sake of their children. It’s all she’s ever wanted, for Riku and Tenn to be happy together again. If that means giving Riku a push on the back… she’ll do it.

…

The door closes. Iori still can’t believe this.

“Of all groups, to have all of Trigger and Re:Vale gathered in this dorm… Does this dorm lie on a gravitational field for top idols?” He sighs as he eyes the trio gathered around the dining room, feasting on soba and Manager’s leftovers… Then the pair of drunkards who are digging in with equal enthusiasm. A flustered manager. And finally, the still devastated Yotsuba-san who is still swearing vengeance under his breath.

“Ah. That’s exactly what I said just now!” Nii-san pointed out.

Tsunoshi-san says something jumbled in his Okinawa slang with a bright, bright grin.

“Err… _Mensore!_ Ahahaha!”

Nikaido-san is brilliant in his own way too, to have last this long with just ‘Mensore’…

“Ignore him. Ryuu’s a happy drunk, so unless he causes trouble, just leave him be.” Kujo-san deadpans around a strand of noodle. He eyes Yaotome-san with a straight-laced quip on his lips. “So? _Soba deliveryman_ , why are you seated so casually amongst us and eating leftovers? Don’t you have other deliveries to get to besides this?”

“This happens to be my last trip. I’m in luck, to get a home-made meal out of it.”

Yaotome-san too… Iori no longer gets what’s happening. Are all members of Trigger this random?

“Ah! That was delivered to me by a udon store. I didn’t want it to go to waste since it was expensive so I brought it here.” The Manager points out with a bright smile.

“……ugh…”

“It’s _delivered_.” Kujo-san rubs it in.

“I heard it the first time!” Yaotome-san snaps.

Tsunashi-san laughs and claps out a rhythm to Monster Generation.

“—I’ll definitely kill that bastard!” Yotsuba-san hisses out, ending his internal monologue once again.

“What a mess…” Iori facepalms.

His phone chooses to buzz in that instance, receiving a message. He fishes out it briskly – he _really_ doesn’t want to deal with this mess when everyone sobers – and stills at the message from Nanase Riku.

Suddenly, this mess seems a lot more tolerable. He slinks away to the corner of the sofa – far enough to not be an obstruction to the drunkards – and swipes right on the message.

[Nanase Riku: Iori, you’re really a tsundere.]

Wha……That guy… That’s all he has to say after all the embarrassment it took him to type out those words?!

[Nanase Riku: Heheh! But, well, you made me really happy with what you said!]

[Nanase Riku: Honestly, I was feeling quite down until I saw your message… I was dreaming about my Nii-chan back before he… you know.]

[Nanase Riku: I’m still quite scared even now to face him. I don’t know how he’ll react at all. But I’m glad that you’ll be there when I feel up to contacting him. Even though you always tell me off and you’re uncute at times, how to put it… You kinda make me feel invincible when you’re by my side! Because Iori is reliable, afterall!]

W-What…

His face feels warm. It _is_ warm to touch, when he reaches up to cover his face. He shakily types out a reply.

[Izumi Iori: Are you complimenting me or insulting me?]

[Nanase Riku: What! Isn’t that obvious? It’s a compliment! Com-pli-ment! ^^]

[Izumi Iori: Well… I’ll take you at your words then.]

[Izumi Iori: Hold on.]

[Izumi Iori: Did you only just wake up, Nanase-san?! I sent you those messages right after I left… That was 10 in the morning! You didn’t wake till now? How high is your fever?!]

[Nanase Riku: I had some training from young to sleep well so that I can heal, heheh. You saw how my Mom is like, didn’t you?]

[Izumi Iori: W-Well… Shiori-san was scary.]

[Nanase Riku: I’ll go tell her that now!]

[Izumi Iori: Wait! Don’t--]

[Izumi Iori: Nanase-san?]

[Izumi Iori: You were joking, right?]

[Izumi Iori: Did you really tell Shiori-san?!]

[Nanase Riku: …Iori.]

[Izumi Iori: Relay an apology to Shiori-san for me, please. Or better yet, I’ll call now and please pass the phone to her!]

[Nanase Riku: You… know Trigger?]

[Izumi Iori: Huh? I…do… but… why do you ask?]

A long pause resounds thereafter. It’s faintly reminiscent of the silence he received from one other Nanase. He remembers, because it’s not even been a day since—

The devastation, filling gentle eyes so akin to Riku’s but far more mature. The quietness of the flower shop where birds were chirping outside and cars zooming down road. The refreshing air that hung around them and yet – the feeling of loss, of _grief_ that he’s now able to identify accurately, lingering in the lines of a man painting delicate strokes onto ceramic; a woman whose warm smile was torn away briefly, to reveal the shadow of loss that had been shielded inside all along.

And Trigger. His mind swivels to the missing piece. The cause of their loss.

Navy blues widen. Suddenly, all seems to fit in place.

“Izumi Iori.” Kujo-san calls out from the dining table. “You’re the centre, aren’t you? Yet, why are you segregating yourself from your group? Is your position just for show?”

………Harsh expression differing from kind faces… Narrow eyes that are jaded unlike bright carnelians… A stinging attitude compared to the tender warmth that is Nanase Riku… Yet when all those differences are taken away, what’s left remaining is—

The phone in his palm buzzes with a reply.

[Nanase Riku: I didn’t mention it before but… My brother… he’s Kujo Tenn.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping people won't hate this.


	6. 15 Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Apology._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>       _Hananase Notes! :
>     ~ < 20th Jun: Music Festa
>     - 20th Jun: Rokuya Nagi's birthday [C1]
>     - 20th Aug: Idolish7's Debut
>     - 8th Sep: Ogami Banri's birthday [C2]
>     ~ 31st Dec: Japan Idol Music Awards [C3]
>     ~ 3rd Jan: Black or White Faceoffs
>     - 25th Jan: Izumi Iori's birthday [C4] 
>     - 14th Feb: Nikaido Yamato's birthday [C5]
>     ~ 28th Feb: Trigger's Debut [C6]_

“Kujo-san—”

Iori holds his tongue before the words could come. Because he doesn’t know what words he would speak at this moment, in this room.

The world is still lost in its own melody, with drunken laughter and casual talks and slurping of soba noodles filling the room. Impervious to the epiphany he had – How had he not noticed when it’s so obvious?! – the world continues spinning at its own pace, leaving Kujo Tenn scrutinizing him, his phone buzzing, and him, just seated, a myriad of thoughts flickering through his mind at a breakneck pace.

 _Did you leave your family behind? Your brother misses you, you know. Shiori-san misses you too, even though she smiled_. The memory feels like a dagger bearing in and carving out – Iori can’t imagine how much he must have hurt her unknowingly, how Riku might be feeling right now, ill and maybe betrayed, torn at the knowledge that his brother is so close and yet so far and— And suddenly, the age that worn on the edges of Mr Nanase’s eyes makes sense – even though Kujo Tenn is young and proud and cocking his head at him, arm postured languidly on the edge of the table.

“What.” The word infiltrates the room like a blade stabbing in.

The buzz of his phone reminds him of the connection he should be preserving.

“…It’s nothing.” He forced a smile, obscuring the surface of his phone with a palm. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, so I’ll retire now, Nii-san.”

“ _-Zettai minogasenai –_ Right! Good night, Iori!” Nii-san waves him off.

He feels rather than sees the narrowing pink ombres on his back.

The door closes. He locks it, for extra safety.

Sliding down against the wood – his shaky knees can’t bring him to his bed right now – Iori combs a hand through his hair in disbelief and peers down at the messages.

[Nanase Riku: S-Sorry! Was that too sudden?!]

[Nanase Riku: Iori? Are you stunned speechless?]

[Nanase Riku: I-It’s just a joke, you know? People always did say Kujo Tenn has uncanny similarities with me! Haha!]

[Nanase Riku: …Iori?]

[Nanase Riku: What’s wrong? Why won’t you answer?]

[Nanase Riku: I’m sorry… I never meant to hide this from you. But Nii-chan – I didn’t want to compromise Tenn-Nii by revealing his past to everyone. Especially since it’s natural for Tenn-Nii to not want a younger brother like me]

[Nanase Riku: …Iori…?]

[Nanase Riku: …Please…reply…]

He doesn’t know what to say.

He doesn’t know what to say except—

[Izumi Iori: Why haven’t you told me earlier on?]

[Izumi Iori: I could have done something to help!]

[Nanase Riku: …Eh…]

[Nanase Riku: Iori, you’re not mad?]

What a ridiculous question.

[Izumi Iori: I’m mad! Can’t you see how infuriated I am?!]

[Izumi Iori: You should have warned me ahead of time that your brother is an acquaintance of mine!]

[Nanase Riku: But I didn’t know you knew Trigger till just now!]

[Izumi Iori: We’ve faced each other in Black or White! It’s basic manners in the entertainment world to greet your seniors if they are in the same studio as you! And we’re on the same line up for Zero Arena’s reopening! How could you not have known?!]

[Nanase Riku: W-Well, I didn’t!]

[Nanase Riku: ノಠ_ಠノ]

[Izumi Iori: Hah………………]

Good grief. Iori slumps.

[Izumi Iori: I should have expected this, with how oblivious Nanase-san is.]

[Nanase Riku: Wha-?! What was the sudden insult for?! Iori’s the one who’s oblivious, aren’t you?!]

[Izumi Iori: W-Well, that’s]

Irrefutable.

He wants to sink his face in his palms and bury it away forever.

Riku and Kujo-san are so clearly twins despite their different colouring and personalities. It’s a miracle he hasn’t noticed till now.

[Izumi Iori: Anyways]

He remembers the line of messages he’d just read. (An uncomfortable pinch of hurt makes him shift in place, brows scrunching.

…Does Riku really doubt him so much? No, it must be due to the florist’s own uncertainty. This is the first time he’s opening up about his brother’s identity to someone after all. Nevermind Riku’s tendency to talk about a ‘Nii-chan’ to strangers who frequent his shop.)

[Izumi Iori: There’s no need to panic about me treating you any differently.]

[Izumi Iori: I just told you this morning I am your friend, haven’t I?]

[Izumi Iori: Learning of this knowledge doesn’t change your image in the least in my eyes. Nanase-san is still Nanase-san.]

[Nanase Riku: Iori…!]

[Izumi Iori: You’re still the same hopeless clutz of a florist I know.]

[Nanase Riku: ………… Forget it! Who wants Iori as a friend?! You’re only ever mean to me!]

How cute. He smiles. But nevertheless… to punctuate his point—

[Izumi Iori: Just because your brother is Kujo Tenn doesn’t mean I take back my words from this morning.]

[Izumi Iori: I will still do my best to help when you feel up to talking to him.]

[Izumi Iori: …Still, I can’t help but feel your worries are unnecessary. That person may be harsh to those standing in the same industry, but I stick to my opinion that someone who left for his family’s sake wouldn’t abandon his family so easily.]

[Izumi Iori: As a matter of fact, how can you be sure that he’s not treating his fans kindly because you’re there? The way I see it, his pampering behaviour towards his fans must have developed due to your history as brothers. Nanase-san being a needy child in your youth.]

[Nanase Riku: Iori… you sure don’t dress up your words, do you? It’s starting to hurt even more…]

[Izumi Iori: I only say things the way I see them.]

[Izumi Iori: You might have been childish once upon a time. But you’ve learnt from Kujo-san’s absence and you have matured. There’s nothing shameful in appearing before Kujo-san the way you are today and showing him how much you’ve grown.]

‘So there’s no need to worry so much.’ Is what Iori wants to tell him.

But he knows the other would try to argue anyways. It’s not like a five minutes conversation over the phone could easily change one’s lifelong mindset. If things are that way, Iori would have been able to convince him the first time they had this conversation.

[Nanase Riku: But…]

As expected, Riku still tries to argue.

The point here though, is not about Kujo-san accepting him.

The point is—

[Izumi Iori: And even then, if you’re still scared that your brother would reject you…know that you at least have me by your side even if you fail.]

\-- that he’ll side with him no matter what.

 [Nanase Riku: …!]

Iori hides a smile with the back of his hand.

[Izumi Iori: After all, I’m reliable and I make you feel invincible, don’t I?]

[Nanase Riku: …When you’re saying it yourself, it just sounds haughty.]

[Izumi Iori: I was taking the words from your mouth!]

[Nanase Riku: lol I know, I know!]

[Nanase Riku: Thank you, Iori.]

[Nanase Riku: I’m glad I have you here.]

Wha…………

A hand flies up to his beet red face again. Two times in a night is really too much for him to take… This guy… He really has no sense of shame, does he? Not that he doesn’t understand from his point of view, but…

[Izumi Iori: Repay me by drowning me in a sea of stationeries the day you reunite with your brother. That will be sufficient payment.]

[Nanase Riku: S-Stationeries?! What’s up with that…]

[Izumi Iori: I love them. You have a problem with that?]

[Izumi Iori: Now, go to sleep or you’ll fall sick again.]

[Nanase Riku: Hmph. Alright, alright~]

[Nanase Riku: _Mommy._ ]

[Izumi Iori: I’ll inform Shiori-san the next time I meet her.]

[Nanase Riku: Uwah~! Please don’t! I get it. I’ll take back my words! Just don’t tell Okaa-san!]

A smile crawls to his lips, even if a huff escapes when he realizes it. The back of his hand flying to his lips, Iori exits the chat, watching the light flicker out with a single press of a button.

Kujo-san is Riku’s older twin brother, huh… This sure complicates things.

…

……………………………………

It’s comfortable. It’s warm. He doesn’t want to wake.

Still, through semi-translucent curtains, rays of light filters in and dances across crimson lashes. The orangey-red behind his eyelids grow unbearable. The warm fuzzy dreams of nothingness trail out beyond his reach, accosted by the reality that wriggles its way into his mind. He’s tired. He’s comfortable. His arm is warm and it’s definitely Okaa-san who placed the sheet over his shoulders. Just like how it’s undeniably notes beneath his arms, pieces of ideas sketched and laid out last night for –

Nanase Riku sits up so fast black dots dance within his vision. They’re an obstruction. He wills them away as he gazes down at the sketch.

“…It’s not a dream…”

His phone shows the messages of Iori when he checks. Iori really said that he’s behind him. Said that he knows Tenn-Nii. Said that he’ll be there even if Tenn-Nii rejects him.

“Tenn-Nii…” His heart squeezes for a fraction of a moment. It pumps, strong and weak in an invisible hand. And its racing doesn’t stop even as he takes in the details again, notes written in his own small clumsy kanji.

He’s really sending a bouquet to Tenn-Nii.

He’s really sending a bouquet to _Tenn-Nii_.

Riku can’t get down fast enough.

He races through his routine as the florist. Waters the plants, feeds them. The town is only just awakening to the newly arrived dawn. The flowers are awaiting his usual talks with them. He replaces his loving speeches with an apology and plea for their understanding – Tenn-Nii’s flowers awaits!

Now, bending over the buckets of flowers, Riku wonders what an adequate representation of his feelings for Tenn-Nii would be… Moments like these, where his heart seems ready to burst out of his chest and he would gleefully run around even if it makes his breath stutters, are when he finds the most inspiration for bouquets. Nagi-san’s moment had come when Iori talked about him with that sparkle in his eyes. Banri-san’s had been inspired by the voice of Idolish6’s Manager, stumbling and trembling with such excitement as she talked. And Iori himself was one which he had poured his entire heart and soul into, guided by Sougo-san’s gentle prods.

Tenn-Nii’s is… Tenn-Nii…

“…Riku?” Mom’s voice pokes into the edges of his awareness, soft and wary.

“Okaa-san!” He rubs a hand across his nose. Peers over the brown table he is hunched before. Looks at the startled features of Mom, who’d seemed so resolved when she placed her hands on his and told him of Idolish6’s flower hamper to Trigger.

Last night, he had taken it less than well.

Unbeknownst to Iori – which he is grateful for, because Iori would undoubtedly reproach him if he knows – all of their messages had taken place behind and below the counter in a dimly illuminated store; the florist curled into the tiny pocket of warmth that shields him away.

The plants had soothed him with their whispers when Iori refused to reply initially. The words had been a struggle to type, trembling fingers and familiar quivers in his breaths and a fearful thought of how – _Will Iori leave me? Just like how Tenn-Nii did? Did Tenn-Nii tell him about what a bad brother I was, and he doesn’t want to associate with me anymore?_ – even though he knows Iori isn’t like that. Even though Iori is a friend. But he just can’t help thinking the worst of himself.

Then came salvage in the form of kind words seeking to help.

What followed thereafter had been a tiny blossoming hope that maybe… just maybe… he should try reaching out to Tenn-Nii afterall. Maybe Tenn-Nii won’t refuse him. Maybe he will. But either ways, it’ll feel better to finally spill his guts out and lay it out front. He’ll never know till he tries.

And he will, one day, but just not yet. Not when the apple blossom is still tiny and just beginning to sprout. Not when he’s finally thinking of reaching out to Tenn-Nii with Iori’s help.

“Kaa-san,” Riku smiles. Because this is a family thing, and maybe some opening up might help to still his trembling, gloved hands. He can’t tell if it’s because of excitement. “Let’s send a flower bouquet to Tenn-Nii!”

(If Tenn-Nii rejects him… at least he knows there will still be someone there for him to put a smile on with his flowers. It won’t be the end of the world. Because not even Tenn-Nii said he wouldn’t leave before, back when they were in the hospital and that suspicious man came for him, but Iori did. And if he can’t trust Iori to be honest… then it seems like there really wouldn’t be any hope at all in the broad expense of this world.)

…

“A bouquet?” Kujo Tenn doesn’t show his interest in the form of a quirked brow or a tilted head. It shows in how he stills, how pink ombres narrow in a barely perceptible manner, that his full attention has been grasped.

Unlike him, Yaotome Gaku does lift a brow at that.

“Yes… It’s from the same woman from before.” Anesagi Kaoru replies with furrowed brows, thin long fingers postured on the curve of his gaunt cheeks. “The one who claims that she’s your mother. Honestly, ever since her appearance, we’ve been receiving more fans attempting to pass on their gifts in the same way. Is there something going on in your private life that we should know, Tenn?”

A whiff of air escapes him in annoyance. Unlike Anesagi, Gaku can’t bring himself to be irritated.

“Oh? So the mysterious idol finally has his tail poking out. Do tell.” He prods, lips curving at the cool glare he receives.

“G-Gaku… Don’t provoke Tenn, please…” Ryuu hovers worriedly.

“We are professionals. As I always say, there is no need to involve ourselves in each other’s private lives, is there?” The slightest edge of annoyance in his tone. Sharp pink ombres turn to the bouquet held carelessly in their manager’s hands. “Thanks for receiving it, Anesagi-san.”

Pale hands reach out to gather the flowers in his hands.

“Sheesh. This kid is…” Anesagi’s exasperated sigh fades into the quiet tension of the changing room.

Gaku huffs, trailing a hand through his own pale locks.

“Honestly. What’s going in this brat’s at-home life such that his own mother has to deliver flowers through our manager? It’s ridiculous.” He comments, dropping himself onto the couch.

“…Now, now… Everyone has their own circumstances, don’t they? The same goes for Gaku and Yaotome President…” Ryuu smiles hesitantly.

“Well, that sounds about right when you put it like that.” He doubts there could be any parenting worse than his father’s though. Either way, “You’ve got my sympathy now, Tenn.”

“…fifteen……” A soft whisper.

“Hah?” Their attention snaps to their centre, confusion and bewilderment scrunching their brows. Pink ombres are focused on the mix of pink, peach, and white roses, skimming the contents tucked into the light blue sheet. Gaku honestly couldn’t care less about the type of flowers Tenn has received, except now that he notices it – “Come to think of it, your mother usually gives a single tulip or violet. Why is it a bouquet this time round?”

Tenn’s silence lasts unusually long as pink ombres linger. Gaku doesn’t get it, in the slightest.

“………………It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie!” Gaku snaps.

“It’s nothing for _you_ to be concerned about.”

“Is that how you treat a groupmate concerned about your home life?”

“Gaku! Tenn, you too—”

Two raps on the door interrupts Ryuu before another full-on jab-filled war erupts, not that it hasn’t already. Gaku exhales through his nose as Anesagi opens the door with an exasperated sigh. Blue willow eyes then proceed to widen at the sight of Idolish6’s manager at the door – alongside that group of lucky people. Throwing a look at his centre – _We’ll continue this later._ – he rises to his feet with Ryuu, instantly taken by the conversation that’s quick to start.

“Congratulations on your 2nd anniversary.” Goes the carefree slur Nikaido offers.

“ _Omedeto gozaimasu!_ ” Tags on Rokuya with that funny accent of his.

“For Trigger, who’s always so quick to take care of us, we would like to express our sincere gratitude!” Tsumugi bows politely from waist down, throwing caramel locks over her shoulders. She’s holding something – an elegant black basket with roses of various shades – Purple, Burgundy, Cream – really, what’s up with all the roses crossing their paths today?! – and then some high quality chocolate and wine. “Erm. This… It’s just a small token of our appreciation, but we hope you would accept it.”

“A flower hamper? Sweet!” Gaku slides himself in and takes the heavy basket from her. For such a small woman, she sure packs some strength in her to be carrying this around. “Thanks a lot, Idolish6! You shouldn’t have.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here on your day off.” Ryuu smiles, taking note of everyone’s casual clothes. “It must have been difficult given the crowd out at the front.”

“Well…” Nikaido trails off. The rest of Idolish6 gives their own sheepish slash wry smiles. “…You can say that again.”

“Ryuu-aniki’s fans are super scary…” Yotsuba points out with a shudder and is nudged.

“Come on, Tamaki-kun!” Osaka hisses soflty.

“Oh _,_ so you’re only giving us a hamper in return for the basket Trigger sent last time? What a rude bunch.” Anesagi scoffs off to the side, more habitual and teasing than any real maliciousness in his tone.

“T-That’s because we thought everyone from Trigger would enjoy more practical gifts like these—”

Unbeknownst to all, navy blues observes the quiet way in which pink ombres trace the flower shapes distractedly – up till Yaotome-san calls Kujo-san out on his rudeness and pulls him into the conversation. The last message from right before he collected Nikaido-san’s bouquet remains in his chat record to date.

[Nanase Riku: I’ve decided! We’ll be sending a bouquet to Tenn-Nii – both Mom and I! It’ll be our first step to reaching out to him.]

[Izumi Iori: I’m proud that you’re finally mustering the bravery to reach out. If it’s with flowers, there’s no way your awkward use of language could go wrong.]

[Nanase Riku: Iori, you always pick fights without realizing, don’t you… (￢_￢;)]

[Izumi Iori: It’s hardly picking a fight if it is the truth, Nanase-san.]

[Nanase Riku: What is that?! (＃`Д´)]

[Izumi Iori: lol]

[Izumi Iori: I’ll help you keep a lookout for his reaction. We’re likely to pay our respects to Trigger anyways, at their 2nd Anniversary]

It seems like there’s hope yet, if that troubled expression is Kujo-san’s first reaction to the fifteen roses Riku sent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 
>     Purple roses = Enchantment
>     Burgundy roses = Unconscious Beauty
>     Cream roses = Charming Thoughtfulness
>     They represent Tenn, Gaku, and Ryuu respectively.
> 
> Next Chapter: Nagi and Mitsuki meet Riku.
> 
> This is the 2nd Last of my pre-written chapters. My muse for I7 has long faded, even though we're somewhere just beyond the mid point of the story, so I'll be taking a hiatus from writing Hananase. Now, I can't say for sure how long it'd be since it's pretty time-consuming to look through all the game videos online. But I'm definitely continuing this story someday!
> 
> The last of my pre-written chapters may be released during the broadcasting of the 2nd season, or earlier. We'll see when that is. ｡^‿^｡ Until then, I'd like to thank you all for making this story a success, and the multi-chapter fic I never thought it'd be! Thank you for all your sweet comments, and kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, and even fanart! (Do check it out! I've linked it to the relevant chapter notes!) Do subscribe to know when the next chapter is posted, and I wish you all the best of health till then!

**Author's Note:**

> I have more written but I'm not sure if it'll be well-received. Please kudos/comment/bookmark to let me know if you liked it!


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